Stories About Stories
by Xazz
Summary: Request dump from my blog. Contains lots of stories inside current AUs, also spoilers.
1. A Lily in the Valley 1

I've since had two request threads open on my blog since the last time we met. From now on all general blog requests are going to be here (unless they're MA then you'll have to check out my blog). If they're specific to a season/holiday they'll get their own story. Less that happens you can just track this story to see all the requests I write. A lot of them are from current AUs, they'll be marked.

* * *

A Lily in the Valley

They probably should stop. It was going to ruin him.

No strike that, already had. It was deep set and hard to untangle from though even though he knew it was wouldn't end well. Or maybe it would, who knew? He sure as hell didn't, he was just a willing participant because he was incapable of actually showing restraint. It was just… hard. Hard because he liked it and hard because he didn't want to stop and hard because it wasn't like he could get a release any other way from this frustration.

Still he knew it was a problem when he left the room he, Malik, and a man named Zarid, were sharing through the window. Jerusalem required a second guard on the way to, because the road was dangerous, and the city more so. Despite it being the home of the royalty it wasn't a safe city, and especially after Masyaf had made it's move when the new king had been crowned, it wasn't exactly welcome to Assassins. Two guards, to make sure nothing happened to their Grand Dai.

God he _did not_ want to think about what Altair would do if anything happened to Malik. One didn't know fear until the wrath of the Grandmaster was upon you and while their numbers were scattered like seeds they could all come together and formed the world had never seen. An army of Assassins, even their small force (really only one or two hundred) could take on armies several times the size. If someone _really_ angered Masyaf they could easily just be wiped off the map. But most knew better than to do so, as they wanted to continue to command their services for gold. Two guards was to be safe though.

Haytham had shown him how to climb walls he'd thought were nearly unscalable. But Haytham could climb_anything_, and so after taking some lessons from him so could Jari. That let him climb up to the floor above where there were no actual grips, and then up another floor where there were some, but not many, and then he was on the roof. He crossed the roof and then was climbing down the other side.

He had problems, he knew he had problems, but screw it.

The shutters of the room he wanted were wide open and he landed softly on the sill. The curtains were half closed and there was still a light burning in the room despite how late it was. He pushed back the curtain and dropped onto the wooden floor.

"There you are," and all his reservations dissipated in three words. "I thought you weren't going to show up," and he saw Diyari's silhouette rimmed in orange from the lantern sitting on the bed, which was the only real piece of furniture in the room other than a dresser.

"That was a silly thought," Jari said with a grin, his eyes flicked to the door unthinkingly, and saw it was locked. Good. It would be bad if _anyone_ knew about this. Even Malik. He was, after all, shrinking his duties as a guard to have intimate relations with another man. But so long as he was back inside before it was his watch it shouldn't be a problem.

"And you're usually the one who worries about everything, so I thought I'd take that weight off your shoulders," Diyari teased and his hand reached up and grabbed the front of Jari's shirt and pulled him down. "You let _me_ do the worrying tonight," he said softly.

"Yes, sir," he said with a grin that was nearly a smirk. "You going to tell me what to do too?" he asked, voice dropping, lips hovering just above Diyari's. At least he wasn't trying to grow a beard anymore and had just shaved it all off.

"Well I _do_ outrank you," Diyari said and they both laughed a little. "I'd really like a kiss though," he said with one of his sweet smiles. Jari was just holding onto himself now, as he was about to kiss Diyari anyway because he was weak and didn't have the fortitude to restrain himself much longer anyway.

He dropped his mouth down onto Diyari's and despite the 'I outrank you' thing it was clear who was the putty in who's hands. Jari was too restrained to become anything but slightly malleable, but he was able to push Diyari around and pressed him back onto and into the bed, kissing him deeply.

They only saw each other a few days a year and it was hard. God it was so hard. But Jari literally _lived_ for this. Ehan probably did too for as the Dai meeting neared he started crankier and easier to set off. God knew he was a raw nerve by the time they arrived at the host city he was more jumpy and anxious and moody than normal. All he wanted to do was put his hands on Diyari. It was all bottled up during the year for these four days. They didn't usually let it go to waste.

Diyari tugged on his clothes, barely releasing hold on his mouth to actually breathe. They pushed and thrashed and it took surprisingly little time despite their flailing and lack of coordination, the air between them too small and hot and tight, to finally shove all their clothes off and Jari hoped they didn't smell _too_ obvious when this was over. Finally though Jari could press his hands all over Diyari's skin, pressing close, their legs tangling up at the end of the bed, and kissing until they couldn't breathe.

Jari put his head up under Diyari's chin, his right hand tangled together with the fingers on Diyari's, and his left hand traced the line of his collar bone gently. Diyari's other hand was splayed against the side of his rib cage, tapping each one softly, counting them like the ninety-nine names of Allah. They just lay there and Jari breathed in the smell of him, the warm feeling of his skin, and pressed his face into the Dai's throat. "I hate this," he muttered.

"Hmm? You… what?" Diyari's confusion wasn't unfounded of course.

Jari propped himself up on his elbows, still holding Diyari's one hand, and in the mostly dark of one lamp looked at him intently. "I hate it," he said. Diyari frowned. "Because we do this and then the meeting is over and I spend a year missing you," he pouted.

Diyari grinned and covered his mouth when he chuckled. "You're silly," he said, reaching up to kiss his bottom lip gently. Jari was the one frowning now. "What?" Diyari asked, "You aren't serious are you? You like this. It's not the best situation, but it's really all we can do. Unless you _want_ to tell the Grand Dai why you want to be transferred to Aleppo?"

"No," he agreed with a grumble. "… I want to sometimes though. I miss you _all the time_," he whined.

"It's okay," Diyari said gently and ran his hand through his short hair. "We'll be okay. I miss you too," and he cupped Jari's cheek.

Jari sighed, "It's… more than that," he said softly.

"Hmm? What is?" Jari stared at him, and then opened his mouth to say it. Nothing came out. Just… nothing. He closed his mouth. "What?" Diyari asked.

"Never mind," he grumbled and kissed him again. "Just… forget I said anything," he said in practically a whisper against his mouth.


	2. A Lily in the Valley 2

A Lily in the Valley

The desk was a mess. Malik was going to kill him. It wasn't his fault though. Not really. He'd been looking for something and they were still trying to untangle Al Mualim's work. He'd let it all get away from him the last few months he had the Apple, as he slipped into madness. They were trying to put it right but…

Altair had just made it worse by trying to find something, what it was wasn't important. What _was_ important was that he'd made a mess of things and Malik was going to kill him.

He looked up guiltily when he heard someone coming up to the desk and nearly sighed in relief to see it wasn't Malik. It was Rauf. The masked man looked at him, looked at the desk, and then back at him, and chuckled lowly. "Having trouble, brother?" he asked.

"Uh… no," he said slowly.

"Let me help you anyway," and before Altair could protest Rauf was reorganizing the desk. "What were you looking for?"

"A list of our contacts in Arabia, there was some trouble there earlier. Malik dealt with it, but he was looking for it," he said, slightly sheepish.

"Hmmm," Rauf said, mouth hidden but Altair could imagine what it looked like. He rifled through some papers, "Here you are," he handed it to Altair who tried to not look relieved as he was as he got both what he wanted and Rauf putting the desk to rights.

"Thanks," Altair said, frowning a bit though.

"Something wrong?" Rauf asked.

"I'm… not good at this," Altair sighed, still holding the list on contacts.

"At?"

"At this. This whole… this," he said helplessly. He hated being helpless. "Malik can do this. _You_ can do this," his frown deepened, frustrated. "I can't."

"You'll learn," Rauf said nicely. "Just like you learned to fight, you'll learn this."

Altair slumped into the chair behind the desk. He only had his guard lowered so much because it was Rauf. Rauf, who could actually keep up with him, challenge him, make a fight that didn't leave him bored. They'd always sort of been friends, even though Rauf was three years his senior and Altair's polar opposite in every way from personality to fighting style. "I don't think I can," he said softly. He looked up at Rauf, though his eyes were hidden by his hood. "Malik does everything, and when I try to help I just…" he groaned and rubbed his face. "I mess it up. I mess _everything_ up," and he looked at his desk miserably. "I can't even do one thing without—" he cut himself off.

"Altair?" he glanced up, Rauf was at the side of the desk.

"I don't want to let him down," Altair said softly, like he was afraid to even say it. "I've done that enough this life," it was practically a whisper.

"I'm sure you don't," Rauf said.

"I hope not," Altair said softly just as Malik came around the corner and Altair felt felt a bit warm when Malik saw them and grinned at Rauf, making a joke about apologizing if Altair was bothering him. He'd do a lot of stupid things to see Malik smile, since he didn't have much reason to do so. Rauf looked between them, but only told Malik of course Altair wasn't.

—

He liked the pillows under the window. They were comfortable and just out of the sun. Altair was laying on them, all propped up just so to look into Sawsan's box. Her kittens had only just started to open their eyes and they made Altair happy. They made him feel warm and light and _good_ like few things did. He was still deciding on names for them all and had really only come up with two. Adha, for the woman he'd lost, all orange and cream, his second favorite. And Nadyne, for the silver tabby, who's pelt was like a rushing river. The others he didn't know yet, he couldn't decide. As it was Sawsan had taken him a long time to figure out, though it had come spontaneously.

He looked up at a knock on the door. "What?" he called.

"Can I come in?" Rauf called back.

He sat up properly, putting the pillow aside, "Yes," he called and after a moment picked Sawsan up. She meowed softly but went along with what he wanted and settled into his lap as Rauf opened the door and came in.

"Am I interrupting?" Rauf asked.

"No," and Rauf padded over to him, and sat next to him.

They sat in silence for a moment, "I'm still surprised you have cats, Altair," he said with a slight chuckle.

"I like cats," he said, slightly defensive and hugged Sawsan. She purred loudly.

"I can tell," Rauf grinned at him, pulling down his mask. Altair could just make out where his beard was slightly uneven from the heavy scaring on his face. Another reason he always for his mask, even when not teaching, like most instructors did. "That… is not the only think you like though," he gave Altair a look.

Altair gave him a confused stare, "Excuse me?"

"It's okay, you don't have to worry of my judgement." Altair just kept looking at him very confused. Rauf raised his brows at him and Altair lifted one up. What the hell was Rauf talking about? "Malik," Rauf said, like that explained everything.

"What… about Malik?"

Rauf seemed surprised, "You don't actually know yourself?"

"Rauf, _what_ are you talking about?"

Rauf just hummed, "Have you named your babies yet?" he asked, switching gears.

"Uh… two of them. Nadyne, the silver, and Adha, the orange," he said.

"Ah, beautiful names for beautiful creatures," Rauf smiled and pet the darker gray one.

"Would you like to name one?" Altair asked.

Rauf looked at him, "I can?" he asked, surprised.

"Sure," Altair shrugged.

"Mmmm," Rauf looked down at the box of kittens and then picked up the one he was petting, the dark gray one. He looked at the kitten intently, and then smiled, and it was almost sad. "I think so this one," he said, "Seif."

"Really? After your brother?"

"Yes. My brother would have liked to have a cat," and Rauf scratched the dark gray, Seif, behind the ears. "One cannot be sad all the time," he sighed a little then turned to Altair, "Right?"

"Yes, I suppose," Altair admitted. "I don't have much to be happy for though," and his eyes went down to Sawsan. She made him so, one of the few things. She purred loudly as he pet her, scratching her under the chin adoringly. His eyes closed in pleasure, and he smiled faintly.

"What about Malik?" Rauf asked, turning to face him, Seif in his lap.

"What about him?"

Rauf sighed, "I can't believe you're so obtuse even to yourself Altair."

Altair frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Malik makes you happy. Doesn't he?"

"Uh…" he didn't really examine all the things Malik made him feel. Honestly he didn't examine too many of his feelings, they were hard to understand was difficult for him. As it was he closed himself off to most things, most people, because it hurt too much otherwise. It hurt and he hated it. He hated being hurt and that was all people did, they hurt him, so he pushed them away, blocked them out, and didn't let anyone near him. Only a few people were close to him, Adha had been one, and she'd proven his point to himself, Al Mualim had been another, proving him right again in a horrifically painful way. Rauf was pushing against that barrier, one of the few people he would call 'friend' that he hadn't used since he was a novice and the world was easy and while cruel it wasn't washed in blood and he could still look at his hands and not see them dripping red.

Then there was Malik.

Malik, who he trusted with his thoughts, because he could untangle them like other men couldn't. Because Malik didn't sneer down at him because he had trouble doing 'scholarly' things, like reading, writing, arithmetic. Malik didn't think he was stupid because he didn't speak. He'd been one of those people Altair called friends when he was younger, they were in the same class and had worked good as a unit even then. But that hadn't lasted long and Altair gained his Master status early, the youngest Master there ever was. He'd barely been twenty-one. After that he'd distanced himself from his old friends, he pushed them away and didn't talk to them, because he could see their disdain in their eyes. They hated him and were jealous of his abilities. Even Malik. Perhaps _especially_ Malik.

He thought he'd made a good choice, not letting others close, and then Solomon's Temple happened and he'd been proven right, again. But he'd been wrong, and a fool. Just because Altair had tried to keep people out of his heart didn't mean they would leave. When Robert had thrown him through that arch and he'd nearly been crushed by all those rocks he'd been sick with terror that Malik and Kadar would be dead. He could still remember staring at those rocks for a long time, knowing there was _nothing_ he could do to help them, and he'd failed. Failed his master, men he'd thought were his friends, and himself.

Malik had every reason to hate him. Hate and loathe and Altair would willingly take any punishment Malik dolled out, because he deserved it, because he'd caused this. He was sorry, though he couldn't say it, because Malik would never accept it. Even though he was sorry with every fiber of his being. He hadn't wanted this. So Altair took the abuse and only gave back cold because it was his only defense to Malik's flaming hatred.

Despite all that though, Malik had taken care of Sawsan, and listened to him when he just needed _someone_to listen to his upset thoughts. No one wanted to listen to him, because they all thought he was stupid. Stupid and asked too many questions. Malik knew otherwise, knew he had a busy mind, but a quiet mouth. He didn't speak unless he had something to say most times, and didn't fill the air with mindless chatter.

But did all of _that_ boil down to something that made Altair happy? Malik with his sharp tongue and mind and a personality of fire to melt away at Altair's ice. He realized he'd, really, never let anyone so close to try and melt that ice, even when they'd been younger, he'd kept his distance. Now all he wanted was Malik's approval, to be told he was doing the _right_ thing after making so many mistakes. He liked when Malik was pleased with him and when Malik was frustrated with him grew moody (usually moodier as it happened when Malik was forcing him to stay at the desk).

"No," Altair said.

"No?" Rauf seemed genuinely surprised by that answer.

"He doesn't make me happy… I think," he was still unsure about that, "I just…"

"Just?" Rauf asked.

Altair buried his fingers in Sawsan's pelt, "I want to make him happy instead," and Rauf smiled. "What?"

"That is a happiness unto itself, my friend," Rauf said.

"It is?"

"Yes. Are you so confounded by the most basic of emotions you aren't aware of that?" he teased.

"I'm… not good at this," Altair groaned.

"You seem to think you're not good at quite a lot of things, Altair," Rauf said.

"But I'm not. I'm good at killing things. And that's about it," he said, somewhat guiltily. God when he said it like that it sounded much worse than it perhaps was. "And you're being evasive, say what you want to say, you know I'm not one for word play," he sighed.

"Very well," Rauf said, still scratching Seif who was eating it up. "You have feelings for him," and Altair _stared_at him. Rauf chuckled, "You didn't know this?"

"I do not," he positively _squeaked_ and was immediately embarrassed for doing.

"I think you aren't quite sure what you are and aren't capable of," Rauf said, "Or what you do do and don't do. Honestly, you should see yourself sometimes."

"W-what?" he was torn between slightly horrified and boundlessly curious.

"I am fairly sure it only because I know you," Rauf said, "but you're always looking at him."

"He helps me-

"_Always_ looking at him. And not just looking, sometimes you stare, or get distracted. I've seen you cut off mid sentence several times just because he comes into sight."

"I do not."

"Yes you do, think about it," and Altair did, because Rauf was sort of scaring him. He did that? He _actually_did that? He stared at Malik? He thought back, he had an astounding memory, and upon examining some situations he realized he _did_ do that. Well that was mildly horrifying and embarrassing. "You even said yourself," Rauf continued, drawing him back out of his own head before he got lost in it, "you want to make him happy. I know you do things only because he says, otherwise you'd continue hunting all over Syria for more Templars, more blood. I mean, you sit a _desk_ every day. The instructors could barely make you do that when you were a novice, and Malik does so without pain or threat to his life. You're going to be the Mentor, even though you don't have the training to do so, because he told you you would be. Others would see this as a sign of obedience."

"I did the same for Al Mualim," Altair said.

"I know," Rauf still seemed amused by Altair's stupidity, "and you loved him didn't you?" and Altair blinked several times quickly. Azrael had been like a father to him when Umar had died, both him and Abbas actually. But they were opposite sides of the same coin, Abbas was cunning, Altair was powerful. But yes, he'd loved Azrael, like a son did his father, because it was better than dwelling on the real parents he'd lost. And all at once his actions clawed at his chest. Azrael was not his real father, but he'd still committed patricide.

"Altair," Rauf pulled him back again as he got lost in his grief, "I'm only trying to help you. Not confuse you."

"Really? Fooled me, as I am very confused."

Rauf laughed. "You don't listen to men who aren't worthy of you," Rauf said, "I know that. I've seen it in some of my students who will one day be _great_. They do not do as I say because I am simply an instructor, they do it because they love me. Our Order, sadly, doesn't promote the growth of emotions, or knowing how to deal with them. I was lucky, because I had Seif," and Altair's eyes went down to the kitten in his lap. "I stayed in touch with them because of my brother, because I loved him." Altair said nothing, only listening, digesting Rauf's words. "Not everyone is as lucky as me. Do you know why you want to make Malik happy? Or proud? Or why you trust him so much?"

"Because he's my brother," Altair said.

"You're an idiot sometimes," Rauf said and Altair scowled at him. "Because you love him," and Altair said nothing, his face neutral.

The door suddenly swung open. Only Malik opened the door without knocking. His head appeared around the door, looking at them both as they turned towards him. "I do not mean to interrupt brothers," Malik said.

"Not at all," Rauf promised, "I was just leaving," and he put Seif back. Altair tore his eyes away from Malik and gave Rauf a look, Rauf just grinned at him. The smug asshole! Then, with a final glance at Altair he went to the door, "Safety and peace, Dai," he bowed his head and then left, closing the door between him and the both of them, effectively locking Altair in a room with a man who Rauf said he was in love with and he wasn't quite sure the instructor was wrong.

He didn't know what to do.


	3. A Lily in the Valley 3

A Lily in the Valley

Altair was already at the desk when Malik came down, usually it was the other way around, but he wasn't complaining. He was speaking softly to Kamal who was writing as fast as he possibly could to keep up with what Altair was saying. Malik went to the lock box by the desk and opened it, pulling out the few messages there that had arrived since morning, or yesterday. Unless they were time sensitive they dealt with things a day behind. So yesterday's messages and inquires and _things_ that had arrived were being handled today, just as everything that came in today would be handled tomorrow. If they were doing it same day it was just sort of insane. They'd tried that for a few weeks but it was too hectic and hard to keep track of, and they weren't on schedule for anything. So it was better to do it like this.

Malik sat next to Altair once he had yesterday's messages, the pigeon slips already on the table. Altair was still talking to Kamal and he didn't interrupt. Eventually though Kamal was blowing on his ink to dry it and leaving, though he left his pen and ink well. Malik was going through commissions for kills, separating them into stacks by country. Syria, Arabia, Turkey, Iran, and Iraq, the five countries that they had men in that reported to their center here in Masyaf. All requests came through them, less it was particularly time sensitive (like it needed to happen in a few days) and once they'd agreed and payment was delivered to one of their main holdings in that country the job would be complete.

Altair reached over to help him, their hands brushed as they separated the papers in a comfortable silence. It was still early, the fortress was mostly asleep or eating breakfast still. There were no novices outside, but they would be soon, training and drilling until the sun was several hours into the sky and then they'd go back inside to escape the hottest parts of the day. He tried not to enjoy the light touch of Altair's skin on his hand when they managed to touch and focus on his work.

Eventually it was all sorted out and he gave Altair several of them, the small stack from Turkey, to read and determine if they would be taken. Malik took the larger Syrian stack, really the biggest, because of all the turmoil with the crusaders. They came from all over the twelve districts, from petty feuds between lesser nobles or even merchants who wanted to off the competition, to generals needing such and such man killed. Huh, there was even one in here for a man who wanted his wife's secret lover killed, but couldn't do it himself because of their status differences.

He started when suddenly, under the desk, Altair pressed his thigh along Malik's. He glanced at Altair, but the man was dutifully reading the small script on a pigeon slip, looking like he was concentrating very hard. Malik knew it wasn't an act, Altair was probably having trouble. The time it would take Altair to finish the Turkish ones Malik would probably be on Arabia, which was the next largest stack. He doubted Altair even realized he was doing so and grinned privately when Altair started when Malik pressed back.

They sat like that, working, until Kamal came back. He was carrying three of the kittens with him. Well, slightly, at four months old they were starting to look less like kittens and more like like adults. He dropped Adha, Kadar and Kanwai off at the desk and then went off again without a word.

"This is your doing," was all Malik said as Altair pulled Kanwai into his lap. Adha and Kadar tripped over their big paws on the desk until Malik took possession of them. He was teaching Adha to stand on his shoulder, like Sawsan would for Altair. She was quite good at it and liked to lay across his shoulders. That's where he put her now, enjoying the light weight on his left shoulder. Altair said nothing of the cats and he could hear Kanwai purring in Altair's lap. Kadar fell asleep in his lap almost instantly and Adha laid on his shoulders, her tail brushing his ear every now and then.

They didn't see Kamal until lunch, and he just brought it right to the desk without asking. Well that was slightly annoying, as during the morning, while working mind you, Altair's hand had strayed from petting Kanwai in his lap to every now and then brushing Malik's thigh, or even _stroking_ it.

He was going to throttle Altair.

In the afternoon Zaki came with a time sensitive slip from Acre, saying a high ranking Templar was going to be in their city for a week or so before getting on a boat and leaving for Spain. He saw the look in Altair's eyes to want to be the one to take it, be the one who flew and killed the Templar. But it wouldn't be. He gave it to another and sent a runner to bring them to the desk. Altair told the man about his mission, as it was the Grandmaster's duty to do so, and then sent him on his way.

He sat back down next to Malik in a mood. He wanted that job. "Hey," Malik drew his eyes, though his head did not move from where it was tipped slightly down. He knew he had Altair's eyes though because when Malik spoke Altair looked. "You do more work here than out on the field."

"Doesn't mean I like this work," Altair muttered.

"It's safer work."

"Because I like safe."

"You're just being annoying today aren't you?" Altair grumbled but said nothing real. "Stop whining," and he pressed his hand to Altair's thigh, near the inside. Altair shut up abruptly. Too easy. He put his hand back to himself and went back to work, which was going over complaints from the village and the ones they watched over. It was astounding how petty some people were. Others though weren't so and he wrote the required notes to send his men to assist the towns with what they needed.

At last the shadows grew long and Malik and Altair cleaned up the desk, putting books away and putting the important things into the lock boxes. The kittens had left when Sawsan had come earlier and they'd followed her back home no doubt, pouncing and chasing after each other around them. "Another successful day where we didn't screw anything up," Malik said.

Altair chuckled, "We're getting better at that," he agreed and they walked up to their room for dinner. Ehan was at the door, like usual he looked insanely bored but resigned to an easy duty of just keeping watch. He was walking a knife across his fingers boredly, face stony.

Dinner was already in the room when they went in. "Where has Kamal been all day?" Malik asked curiously as he sat on the floor. The cats were at the wall, eating their dinner out of their dishes and Seif swatted at Kanwai when she tried to steal some of his food.

"Don't worry about it," was all Altair said. "He was plenty busy."

"Doing what?"

"Looking something up for me."

"Which was…?"

"It it bears fruit I'll let you know. It's a bit of a camel chase though," he shrugged and lay back on the pillows as Malik uncovered their dinner. He handed Altair his plate of lamb and rice.

"Not even a little?"

"You'll just worry if I tell you. So I'm not, just trust me," and he nudged Malik with his boot.

"Fine, if you say so," he huffed. Altair smiled a little and they talked of other things, a lot of it was work, but then there was little talk about _but_ work, as it was quite literally all they did every day. Though Altair said that he wanted to start taking Kamal out to keep him in shape and in fighting form, so he wasn't weak. Malik thought that was a good idea. They talked briefly about Abbas, as they did once a month or so, but he was being quiet and since the being sworn in he'd been laying low, and even Haytham didn't have much to say.

When they'd finished dinner Altair pushed the tray aside and Malik found himself with a lap full of Altair's (big) head. "Comfortable?" Malik asked sarcastically.

"You have boney legs," Altair smirked.

"Excuse me," he huffed even as he hand ran down the curve of Altair's cheek. Altair's hood was crooked and floppy in this position and Malik ran his finger tips up his temple and to his hair. It was longer than normal right now, Altair hadn't cut it in a few weeks, so it was long enough to actually run his fingers through, as Altair's hair grew quickly. He knew Altair would put it all off soon though, he didn't like having hair, though he _did_ like playing with Malik's. It was weird.

The cats had finished eating a while ago and were laying around or playing, Kadar was in the box, sleeping. He slept a lot, even for a cat, he was the biggest, and the laziest, and the mellowest too. Malik watched as Sawsan untangled herself from two of her daughters who were pouncing on her, and padded over to them, and laid down against Altair's side. He pet her, but Malik only had one hand, and it was currently running through Altair's soft hair. It was, honestly, super soft, sort of like Sawsan's fur, and actually just as long too.

Altair closed his eyes and Malik moved away from his hair, gently tracing planes on his face with the tips of his fingers. He watched Altair deflate, relax. He was only this relaxed around Malik, and when they were alone. Because he could afford to do so and didn't have to worry about the Order and what they thought. He knew it weighed on Altair's mind a great deal because he was always worried of doing something wrong. He couldn't do wrong with Malik though, physically it was impossible actually because Malik never asked anything of him he couldn't do and Altair always did his best, which meant it was usually better than most other men could do, even if his writing was an awful scribble. That was what he had Kamal for.

It was getting late, "Altair," he said gently, not knowing if Altair had actually gone to sleep or not. It was sometimes hard to tell with him. He wasn't though and his eyes snapped open and immediately sought Malik's like two lodestones drawn to each other, they were hard and sharp for an instant before mellowing out. "Time for bed. Get up my legs are asleep," and he pushed Altair off him. The Grandmaster rolled over and stood in an easy motion, grabbing up Sawsan as he did and setting her on his shoulder.

He reached down and helped Malik stand. Malik shook his legs out to get the blood back into them. Once he could feel his legs again and walk like he didn't have two broken legs. The kittens followed after them, at least the ones that were awake as several had fallen asleep in their box. Sawsan jumped onto the bed and the kittens mewed until Malik put them on the bed too as Altair undressed for bed. He'd finished by the time Malik had put the three kittens on the bed and he could undress himself.

His black robe was hung up next to Altair's, though the whites were tossed into the basket by the door full of dirty clothes. A maid came every week for the basket, the black robes weren't washed nearly as often as the white ones as they weren't usually allowed to get dirty.

When he turned around, dressed in a sleeved shirt and loose pants Altair was already comfortable, and in the _very_ middle of the bed looking smug. "You're going to be annoying aren't you," Malik said going over to his normal side and trying to push Altair over.

"I might," he agreed, looking at Malik's mouth, and then eyes meeting his and licked his lips. Malik hated nothing more than when Altair did that too because inevitably it'd run briefly against the scar on his mouth, and Malik might… have a small problem with it. Problem as in Malik liked it, it gave texture of Altair's otherwise (surprisingly) soft mouth. This time he watched his tongue flick up, purposefully drawing Malik's eyes. What had he promised earlier? Something about throttling Altair? Yeah that sounded like a _good_idea.

"I really don't like you," Malik said even as he leaned over and firmly claimed Altair's mouth. Altair smirked into it and kissed him back, and Malik ran his tongue very obviously against the scar on Altair's mouth. Then he put his hand on Altair's face and shoved him away and over to his side of the bed. Altair chuckled and Malik rolled his eyes at him.


	4. Tales From Seal Beach

Tales From Seal Beach

It had to be perfect. There were just no two ways about it. It _had_ to be, because what if it went stupid? He knew Altair, knew he hated being spoiled. Shit he hated _anything_ being done for him. Anything good Malik did took at least a week to plan so when he told Altair it didn't backfire and have Altair dig his heels in like a stubborn jackass he was.

He'd been planning this for like, a month. He had two things left to do. One was ask the hostess at the restaurant if she'd help him out, and the other was…

Well tell Desmond actually.

He'd been with Desmond practically his whole life. He was ten now, and he'd met Des when the kid was four, so six years. That was a long time for a kid that young to know someone who he wasn't related to. He did it one of the days, before he got everything in order, cause he still needed Desmond's help, when Altair was at work. He was running around in the back yard with Piggy and Malik was working up the nerve to tell a_kid_ he wanted to marry his big brother who was basically his dad. He also didn't want Desmond to say anything and he knew Desmond had trouble keeping secrets so he would have to do it soon after he told Desmond.

Finally he grew a pair and went out to the backyard and Desmond was hunched over Piggy rubbing her belly as she wriggled on the grass, tongue hanging open, tail thumping, looking like she was having _way_ too much fun. "Hey Des," he called and the boy looked up. He didn't beckon, the kid couldn't see it anyway, "C'mere," and Desmond came. Fumbling a little Desmond reached out and touched him, smiling when he did.

"What's up?" he asked. Malik didn't say anything, "Mal?" he asked.

"You love your brother right?"

"Of course. That's a dumb question," Desmond huffed. "I mean I'm blind, not an idiot," and they both laughed. Perhaps the best part about Desmond was his ability to stay light about his own awful disability. "Now what is it?"

Malik sighed, rubbed his face, and just decided to say it, "I want to marry him."

"Really?" Desmond's eyes turned gold and he looked right into Malik's eyes.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Good."

"Good?" he was a bit confused.

"I was wondering when one of you would do it. I mean I'm not _that_ blind," he smirked and his eyes faded back to brown. "You ganna do it soon?"

"Well I kinda have to now cause you can't keep a secret at all."

"Nope," Desmond said cheerfully.

"So you'll help me?"

"Duh!" Desmond cried. "Though, my brother so doesn't deserve a guy like you. I'm surprised you stuck around cause he's so dramay."

Malik chuckled, "What can I say he can really-

"Please don't," Desmond squeaked.

"Cook well," and Desmond gave him a look. Then he told Desmond about his idea and he got _really_ excited. Good.


	5. A Lily in the Valley 4

A Lily in the Valley

The entire table looked up and stared when Rauf sat down, some of them had their mouths hanging open just slightly. He only smiled and could still feel the pull of his scars on his face, they were a year old, but still stiff sometimes during cold mornings like this. But that was why he wore a beard, so the others couldn't see them, he didn't particularly like them, and knew they were ugly, and scared some people.

"Hello brothers," he said cheerfully and reached across the table for the pot of hot tea and poured himself a cup. He was a gray robe in a small sea of gray robes, but his was different. It was darker, and his hood (when it was up) was beaked. The darker gray marked him as an instructor and not just another novice, as did the mask. "Something wrong?" he asked as he finished pouring his tea.

"No, nothing, sir," one said. They were ranging in ages from fourteen to about sixteen or so. He saw boys on the table next to them looking behind them, no doubt someone saying an Assassin was sitting among their brothers.

"Good," he said cheerfully, "Now, pass me the pita bread," he instructed and it was handed over. After a few moments they went back to their own meals.

"You're mean," Seif leaned over, sitting next to him, and saying softly, so only he could hear. Though Seif also looked happy.

Rauf just smirked and shoved pita and hummus into his mouth, "They need to be stunned _sometimes_," he said back just as softly.

"No one's going to be able to shut up about this today."

"You're welcome," and he wrapped an arm around his little brother's shoulders. And his real little brother, not the novices who everyone sort of thought of as their younger brothers. Hands stilled on their ways to mouths and conversations sort of sputtered out a little when Rauf did that. Already Rauf was well known, and well liked. Everyone wanted to be in the classes Rauf taught, because he did not beat students for getting things wrong the first time, and kept boys who weren't the best, practicing with training swords until they could handle real ones properly. He made most of the other instructors look bad because of his methods, but most of the novices idolized him.

And there he was, _hugging_ one of them. Most were jealous instantly. "I hate you," Seif muttered.

"Of course little brother, of course," and he let Seif go, ruffling his hair and then turning to the boy next to him and doing the same. "Go on you all, eat. Breakfast won't be any longer than usual for staring at me like gossipy women," and he shooed them with his hands. They immediately went back to eating and talking.

He could tell Seif was glad when breakfast was over and tried to slither away, "Hold on there little sword," he caught his brother by the back of the hood, making him choke for a moment as he didn't check his forward momentum quick enough. They were outside of the dining hall now, and novices were streaming past them. "Classes are switching over for you," he said, which was when novices of a lower level moved up to a higher level. Most boys did them at the same time as their peers, but as they got older and the chaff was separated from the seed the better boys started switching classes sooner, and more often as well.

"They are?" Seif asked excitedly, usually novices didn't know until they were told that morning who their new instructors were.

"Yes."

Seif was very excited, he was sixteen and now going to be ahead of most of his friends if he was switching over today, as most wouldn't for another few months. Then, all at once he got very awkward, "Who's class am I going into?" Rauf knew who's class Seif _wanted_ to get into. The same one everyone did. His. Rauf only taught boys with real promise though, that or very young novices in their first sword forms, as there were few men better than Rauf at teaching basic sword forms.

"Mine," he said.

Seif actually jumped, "Really?" and then he hugged Rauf tightly, not caring that a bunch of novices were now staring.

Rauf chuckled, "Yes, my little sword, you're my newest student," and he hugged his little brother back. "Now go get your gear, we start in the third ring."

"Yes, sir," Seif said, very professional now, and flushed with embarrassment from having hugged his brother like that. Rauf just shook his head, laughing softly, as Seif ran to go get his things with the rest of the novices before they went out to the training rings.


	6. Tales From Seal Beach 2

Tales From Seal Beach

It was only through a great force of will that Connor had agreed to this. Great force of will and was willing to do all sorts of potentially embarrassing things in the name of his sister who seemed really excited about this. It was wearing on him though and he just wanted to go wait in the car and sulk about his lost masculinity. But he had the credit card, so it wasn't feasible. But this was sort of torture. Just the worst thing someone could make a guy like Connor, who for the record was a bad ass and a man's man and liked doing manly stuff like beating his chest and saving princesses from towers, do because he was very _obviously_ out of place in this store. But he was suffering this because he loved his sister.

And what was this hell? Only the worst thing he'd had to do. Usually his mom did this with Aveline, but she had work and couldn't so Connor had been insisted in this… debauchery.

Dress shopping.

Connor sort of wanted to cry. Because he was in a store with enough lace and pink and pastel colors and adorable animal shaped everything to seriously freak out most men. As it was it was frying Connor's brain because he couldn't comprehend the level of frills and bows in this place. He was sitting on a fluffy pale pink stool while Aveline browsed through various dresses.

"Con," she called and he looked up wearily. "What do you think?" she asked holding up a baby blue colored thing with a lot of lace and ruffles and ended above the knee.

"Too short," he grunted and looked away.

"Aww, c'mon, it's cute, look," she insisted and moved closer to him.

"Too. Short," he growled and sent her a look.

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is."

"It's just above the knee."

"Too short."

"Coooonnor," she whined and pouted at him.

"Find a longer one," he said, sort of meanly.

"Fine," she huffed. "What century are you from?" she muttered under her breath and put the dress back up. She talked to the clerk and Connor glared at a pink kitten shaped purse hanging from the wall hoping it'd just catch on fire. Suddenly Aveline jumped in front of him, "This one," she said, already wearing the dress. It was off-white yellow, with two petticoats underneath, and a big white bow like a belt that was tied at the side. There was a pattern of pink flowers on the skirt and bodice and the hems were lined with white frills. With her not quite dark dark skin it made her coffee cream colored skin seem to glow.

The skirt also ended below her knees.

"If you like it," Connor said.

"Yes," she nodded. "What do you think?"

"I think you look nice."

"Are you just saying that?"

"Ava, I'm your brother, I'm not allowed to tell you you look bad. It's like against the rules of being a big brother," he informed her. She laughed.

"I like it, though I wish you'd let me get the blue one," she pouted at him.

"No."

"It isn't that short though, and you wear bloomers under it and stockings. It's not like anyone would see anything," she said holding onto the front of her skirt.

"It's too short, and I'm paying for it."

"But it's a present, you said so," she whined.

"Yeah. I'm still paying for it. You can buy whatever length dress you want with your own money. When I buy, it's below the knee."

"Mom buys me ones above the knee."

"Yeah well I'm not mom," he reminded her.

"I know that," she folded her arms irritably across her chest.

"You want this one?"

She looked down at it. "Yes."

"Okay, go change and we'll get it."

"Can I get new socks?" she asked quickly.

He eyed her, "Depends. Which ones?" she rushed away and came back with a pair of blood red ones with black skull and crossbones on them. "I _need_ them," she insisted.

"For what? You don't even wear dark colors. It would look awful with all your dresses."

"Not the pirate one," she said. "I have fishnets for that one but I _really_ want these. _Pleeeeeeaaase_," she begged.

He sighed, "Lemmie see them," she handed them over and he looked at the price tag. Why were _socks_ so fucking expensive? He didn't care that they were thigh highs, no socks should cost this much. "Fine."

"Yes! Thank you Con, you're the best," and she hugged him.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Now go put your jeans back on so I can pay for this," he sighed. She let him go and retreated to the changing room. He went over to the counter. The clerk, an asian girl in lolita and a little tiny top hat, smiled at him. "How awful am I?" he asked her.

She laughed, "Better than most. Usually the boys wait outside till it's over."

"Oh good," he nodded and then Aveline came out of the changing room, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with her frilly dress and the girl behind the counter rang it up. Connor paid, refusing to actually look at the price of the clothes, and then it was being put in a bag and they left, Connor following after Aveline who skipped out the door humming. Connor just tried not to sulk.


	7. A Lily in the Valley 5

triggers for rape (though not the act of)

* * *

A Lily in the Valley

There wasn't a part of Altair that didn't shake. He couldn't even hold himself together. It was like his body was trying to shake itself apart. But he held it together. He couldn't show Malik this and instead held Sawsan tightly (but not _too_ tightly) as he sat in the garden, out of sight. It didn't take Malik long to go to sleep, turning out a good number of the lamps. The lattice was already locked though, to keep Altair in. But Malik did go to sleep and Altair did not move, barely daring to breathe.

Only once he was sure Malik was asleep behind the back door did he lurch to his feet and vomit into the grate by the fountain so it didn't flood. He shook harder as he expelled the contents of his body until he thought his own lungs and stomach might come up as well. He'd been holding it in since he sat but the shaking hadn't left him, or the need to throw up. He'd just been waiting for Malik to leave, so he could be weak on his own time without Malik to see him and judge him.

His side ached from the retching, though he didn't rip out the stitches. Good. Once he'd gotten rid of everything from his stomach he reached up for the fountain and washer his mouth, spitting it into the grate. He did this several times and it seemed to take all his energy to do so.

Having rid his body of the taste of bile Altair stripped off all his clothes and scoured his body with the water. The feeling of his own hands made him shiver and twitch in bad ways. He dug a few bloody furrows into his skin from his nails and red trickled down his skin along with the water, pooling up on the tiled floor of the garden.

Altair's breaths came and heaves, light it was hard to suck in air and it took him several moments to realize what was going on because it hadn't happened in a long time. Not since he was a kid. Since Abyan.

He was crying.

He reached up and touched his face, his fingertips came away salty when he tasted it, to make sure. He stared at his hand, which was still shaking and now could feel tears running down his face.

He jerked when he heard something and was so relieved when it was Sawsan. She mewed at him, looking up at him with big yellow eyes worriedly. "Oh," he said, and it sounded like the first thing he'd said in a long time. She mewed again and he slid down to the floor and picked her up. "Shhh," he said softly. She licked his cheek, tasted salt, and licked at his face more.

Altair told himself to get up. Get up and get dressed. But he couldn't actually move. He was stuck there, holding Sawsan and then he was bowed over his own knees, forehead on the tile, sobbing as silently as he could, trembling.

How did this happen?

He stayed like that for a long time, until he was still, until he couldn't feel his legs, and the cool night air had settled on his skin, drying it out. There were a few places it felt sticky and pulled, from where he'd bled. Sawsan was asleep beneath him, curled up against one of his arms, a single warm spot.

Slowly he unfolded himself and sat back on his calves and stared up through the lattice. There were a million stars out and to Altair's eyes they were a million different colors, most he couldn't properly describe. All the air left his body and he closed his eyes slowly, opening them just as slowly.

He pushed it all down. All of it. He didn't care. He couldn't care. He was above this. He wasn't going to be broken because of this. He was strong and could do this. He had no reason to cry, because this, in a long line of things that befell Altair, was payment for his sins. He'd committed so many now, eventually they'd catch up with him. And now they were. They were doing so rapidly to the point he had trouble keeping up with them.

But this…

This was one of those things that tipped a scale.

In his mind, everything was done. He owed nothing to anyone, because the universe had just ripped the last piece of him away and claimed it as it's own. He had nothing now. He was nothing.

He stood and let the blood return to his limbs. He pulled on his robes but couldn't even _look_ at the pants and picked Sawsan up. He dropped down to the pillows and closed his eyes. He tried to sleep, which was difficult when all he could think about was the _anger_ in Malik's eyes, and the harsh touch of his hand. All he could do was replay it in his mind, over and over and over again because it would not leave him.

He kept thinking that it was the first time anyone had ever touched him like that.

And it had been through violence.

Eventually he knew he couldn't sleep. Though it seemed he had as when he opened his eyes the sky was lighter than he remembered. He put Sawsan on her pillow and carefully went into the back room and found his gear. He dressed in new clothes in absolute silence and then went to Malik's desk and found a slip of paper and after fumbling a little wrote a short note. If Malik was going to take from him the least he could do was keep an innocent from death. He left the note on the pillow with Sawsan along with some food, and pet her a few more times.

He'd miss her. He loved her. He didn't want to leave her here. But he was more afraid of what the Master would do if he found her. It was more terrifying than he was willing to admit. He kissed her on the head and climbed the fountain wall and unlocked the lattice with his hand with a soft click. He slid it back and climbed through before closing it again with a gentle thud.

Altair faced the city. The sun was just rising over the wall of Jerusalem. He had a long journey home. He felt no peace in it though. All he felt was turmoil and conflict because Malik harmed him as viciously as he helped and he didn't know how to make heads or tails of him or the things he knew. He didn't know who to confide in and he knew that that was his fault alone. He'd pushed everyone away and no one wanted to listen to the 'stupid' Altair who wasn't smart enough to know the answers to his own questions.

He looked back into the garden, Sawsan was still sleeping and Malik would wake soon. He needed to be gone.

He ran.


	8. Sharks and Lionfish

Sharks and Lionfish

She sat with a sigh, her feet hurt, her back hurt, _a lot_ hurt actually. Leo constantly told her to sit down and stop doing this, the problem with that though was that if she didn't do anything nothing would get done at all since Leo couldn't cook, nor did he even have the slightest concept of how to keep things clean.

Salai groaned when someone knocked on the door. But nope, she wasn't getting up. Not now. She was due in a month and it looked like she'd swallowed a kick ball and she wasn't getting up right now. "Leo!" she yelled, "Someone's at the door," she should probably leave though. If it was one of Leo's friends she'd have to, since they all knew Leo had a 'little brother', but definitely _not_ a 'little sister'. Damn his kind to hell for able to have actual sex changes sometimes. "Leonardo!" she yelled again when he didn't get the door, knowing his full name usually got his attention.

It did because a moment later, to some _more_ knocking, Leo appeared. Salai pointed at the door and was about to heave herself to her feet as he opened the door. "I thought I told you to go away," she heard Leo say.

She turned around in his chair. Desmond was standing just outside the door, looking very unamused and_very_ irritated. Leo still wasn't over it, over _everything_. She didn't quite blame him for it, but she'd made her choice, he could grow the fuck up about it a little. Desmond was glaring at Leo with his shark-black eyes, "You leave him alone Leo," she called and watched the instantaneous change in her heart's face. He visibly relaxed, and his eyes darted to her. "Now let him in before you have to deal with a cranky, pregnant, mermaid," she added.

Leo frowned, looking back at her, she just arched her red brows at him. He sighed and stepped aside. She knew that if he'd wanted to Desmond could have just flung Leo aside like a rag doll, but he was being behaved because as much as her heart was just a bundle of hormones and instinct right now he also didn't want to upset her. She smiled at him as the other mermaid slid past Leo, sending him a scowl. Leo watched them both, frowning all the deeper when Desmond came over to her. At least he was dressed, because Leo complained about it when he showed up half naked.

She ignored Leo when Desmond crouched in front of her, his black eyes troubled. "_Don't make such a face. It'll get stuck like that_," she said and ran her fingers through his slightly damp hair. He relaxed even more, becoming less tense and tight.

"_You should come back home,_" he said nuzzling into her wrist, inhaling her scent. There were all sorts of things she'd had to get used to because of Desmond, and frankly, most of them were more flattering then when humans had flirted with him.

"_Soon_," she promised. She'd been going back and forth for a while now, spending time at the reef with Desmond and their tribe (her tribe now too, since she'd gotten the scar on her stomach and over her heart) and here with Leo. She couldn't just leave either of them, though Leo knew that in a month she'd be away for at least a year. He wasn't happy about it but didn't really have a choice.

Desmond frowned at her, "_You should come now. I don't like you being so far away from me_," and he nipped at the tender skin on the underside of her wrist.

"_A few days, I promise,"_ she said, Desmond just whined unhappily. It wasn't his fault, they were wired like this, this was how they were _supposed_ to act, Salai was the weird one, who didn't act like a normal mermaid.

"_Okay_," he sighed, his unhappiness obvious. "_Do you need me to do anything?"_

"_Help me up, it's hard to walk with this_," and she patted her full stomach.

"_This is why you should just come home. It's easier to move there," _he said as he unfolded his long length into a standing position.

"_Well I was planning on going to the pound. I thought you were one of _his_ friends."_

_"Oh, okay_," and Desmond bent down to help her. She didn't bother to hide her smile when Desmond just… picked her up. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck. She knew this would happen, had planned on it honestly. If she didn't stop him Desmond probably wouldn't have let her walk _anywhere_. At least Leo had gone back to whatever he'd been doing, so she didn't have to feel his frown towards them.

She opened the side door, as Desmond's were full of her, and he walked out into the side yard. She wondered if she was heavy. Well she probably _was_, but she herself could pick Desmond up without any problem and she was much smaller then him, and not nearly as strong. If she was heavy he probably didn't notice. He set her gently on the edge of her pond and she shed her clothes quickly before sliding in, glad to be off her feet.

Salai sank down next to his koi in and water grass in the pond, stretching out on the soft, muddy ground, as his spines and fins slid from his skin. Above him there was a slight splash when Desmond dropped into the water and came to lay next to him. The shark pressed his nose against first the side of his stomach, and then up to rest in the curve of his neck, calm now. He was always so damn fidgety out of the water, and he knew it'd just get worse. But up close he was calm. Salai ran his hand across his heart's head and they thrummed against his hard pallet, like he was purring.

"What am I going to do with you?" Salai sighed at him.

His heart looked at him contently, eyes slightly lidded, clearly drunk on whatever pheromones or smell Salai was giving off and his nearness. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he said, rubbing the side of his face into his skin sweetly. "It'll be better when I don't have to be so far away," and his clawed hand ran over the swell in Salai's stomach gently.

"Somehow I doubt that. Your brother's mate told me how _he_ was."

"My brother's not me," he grumbled.

"Yes, and we all saw how you reacted last time."

His heart frowned, "That was a different situation," he said. "I've been good," he added, meeting Salai's brown eyes with his black.

"Yes you have," Salai said sweetly and nuzzled him, "Now _keep_ being good."

"I will," he promised and twisted their tails together.


	9. Flocking Movement

I'm a huge nerd leave me alone. God I'm sure half the terms won't make sense to most of you /sigh

* * *

Flocking Movement

Desmond eyed the others with slightly narrowed eyes. The problem was though that two of them had _really good_ poker faces.

This was _by far_ the most surreal event that had happened to Desmond since he'd first been trapped in the Animus at Abstergo. Sure there was plenty of weird shit out there that had happened to him. Holograms, going into a coma, some of his ancestors still being alive, the Bleeding Effect, Venus, the Apple, the fact that Warren Vidic was actually a mad scientist like you saw in kid's cartoons, and of course being the whole 'savior of the world' thing. But this… this was just _bizarre._

It had started when Desmond had made a comment about one of the (many) things Hawk collected. He was a fucking doomsday prepper and a hoarder, he didn't know why he was surprised at some of the shit Hawk had. I mean you had to entertain yourself somehow during the end of the world. But… Magic: The Gathering?

What was even weirder was that _all of them_ were into it. Well Ezio, Altair and Hawk at least. He'd never seen something so fucking weird in his life. But then maybe it made sense, it was just small scale war and all strategy and out thinking your opponent. So he and Jake had been roped into it after Desmond commented on it, and Clay was already along for the ride because apparently he and Hawk played card games across computers. All sorts, _including_ Magic.

So yeah, fucking _bizarre_.

Desmond and Jake were still learning, but honestly there wasn't anything too hard about the game and his ancestors were patient (you kind of got that way after a few centuries though), and were both just playing a deck Hawk already had. And let it be said Hawk had _a lot_. Like more then any three men, let alone _one _man needed. He had to have every card every printed and duplicates.

Hawk had given Desmond a deck full of green spells, life gain, and elves. Jake had been given auras, which you apparently put on creatures to make them really fucking strong. The others played their own decks (Desmond still had trouble wrapping his head around the idea that guys like Altair and Ezio _played Magic_). Altair had an _evil_ blue/black mill, control, deck and made Desmond want to punch him in the face for. Ezio played mono white soldiers which made Desmond _really_ want to punch him in the face for. Hawk had something called izzet, which was green/blue and pretty fucking annoying but not evil. Clay played a multicolor deck full of angels.

And they all played at the same time and there was a surprising amount of vendetta amid his ancestors. Desmond just focused on not dying first and building up an elf army to the point that he pretty much couldn't die because his life was so obscenely high it was just like taking tick damage on Street Fighter. Altair also took special interest in milling Jake to death as quickly as possible, which caused him to swing at Altair with his massive 13/7 creatures all buffed up on auras. And while all this was going on Clay was just very calmly making three 3/3 angel tokens each turn or something ridiculous like that.

In short; it was a cluster fuck.

It was also _really_ fun!

It was Altair's turn and he looked _way_ too pleased with himself. He also had a Jace the Mindsculpter, which Desmond had learned in the past few hours was a giant 'fuck you, you lose' card when he popped him off. But that wasn't out right now. Instead he just said, "Mill ten," to Jake who looked five seconds from launching himself across the table and burying his fist in Altair's smug face. Though too be fair Desmond would have too if he'd been under Altair's ire as it'd taken all of five turns to half Jake's entire library.

"I don't know what I'm going to do to you later, but I promise it will not be fun for you," Jake growled at him and put the top ten cards of his library into his graveyard, looking at them and swore so elegantly Desmond would have called it poetry. Altair continued to just look pleased.

At least that was all Altair was doing and then let Ezio go. That didn't mean he wasn't going to continue to fuck everyone over though since his control deck was nothing but a _massive_ troll. Ezio just quickly swung at Clay for all he was worth (which was quite a bit as Ezio's soldiers were only slightly more annoying then Desmond's elves) and managed to kill off a good portion of his angels. Didn't do much good though. Desmond didn't do anything after his draw, he just played another elf and gained like ten life, he was at like forty-six or something.

"You need to give him something more interesting then that," Ezio grumbled to Hawk. "He plays like a five year old."

"Hey, shut up," Desmond sniped right back.

"You don't _do_ anything though! You're playing agro, it's wasted on you."

"Fuck you, swinging at you for six," and Ezio was all tapped out except for one 1/2 that couldn't block. Ezio glowered at him, and Desmond made a 'come at me' face in retaliation. He still had untapped blocking elves too for Ezio's next turn.

"Leviathans?" Hawk asked as he took his turn, by far the calmest person here without any vendetta except to make sure Altair didn't mill Jake to death until at least turn six. It had been interesting to see them play six counters against each other in a row on if a mill ten (and all of Jake's remaining cards) would go through a game ago. He was just trying to get back on Jake's good side. At the least Jake wasn't attacking him with his big, fuck off, creatures so it seemed to be working.

"He needs a building deck," Ezio said thoughtfully and gave Desmond a look.

"He'd play a good Commander," Altair grunted.

"Are you kidding that would be _terrifying_," Ezio shot Altair a look.

"You're just upset because you suck at that format," Altair smirked.

"Artifacts?" Hawk asked, having ignored them both and played some creature that let him find a card. "Or burn-

"If you give him a burn deck I will set your hair on fire," Ezio said seriously.

"Oh look at that Ezio you get to take two," Hawk said in a sweet, mocking, tone, and swung some small creature at him. It was then bounce back into his hand. "Proliferate?"

"Just not poison," Altair said, "And you done yet?"

"Yes," and then it was Jake's turn. The New Yorker drew and shot Altair a dirty look. "Or a token deck."

"Those are annoying," Ezio said, "and agro. He's _got_ agro."

"Artifact proliferate?"

"Fuck you Altair swinging for twelve," Jake hissed from around Hawk.

"Just give him a set up, kid doesn't actually _do _anything," Ezio said Jake and Altair being ignored.

"I don't like _dying_, okay?" Desmond huffed. "I'm allergic to it and unlike you jerks I only have one life, so yeah, I like to keep my skin."

"I'm going to Angel Song," Clay announced.

"Fuck you Clay!" Jake yelled at him, drawing everyone's attention back to this stupidity. "He has ten life left!" and he shoved his hand in Altair's direction.

"I know," Clay said nicely, "I like watching you two fight though. It's funny."

"Fuck you," Jake and Altair said at the same time. Clay was unruffled.

"Uhg," and Jake slumped down in his chair, "Your turn blondie," he muttered.

Clay made angel tokens and swung at Ezio, killing him before he was over. Altair _immediatly_ milled Jake for three, twice, and blocked one of Hawk's counters. Jake had _one_ card in his library left and really did look like he was about to kill something… or someone. Desmond continued to do nothing, sitting on his life and his elves, and Jake managed to kill Altair before getting milled to death and then as soon as his turn was over lost because he couldn't draw next turn but who cared because he'd killed Altair. Hawk didn't do anything and then Clay nuked the entire field, of creatures. Desmond just forfeited after that and watched Hawk slowly crush Clay into a tiny ball.

Then the game was over. Hawk left and got Desmond a new deck full of colorless machines and lands which when you set it up properly destroyed _everything_ except you.

This would be fun.


	10. A Lily in the Valley 6

A Lily in the Valley

It started at sunrise. Like most novices Kamal woke with the sun. Usually full brothers slept in a bit unless they were teachers, awake in time for breakfast. Most slept though, as they'd gone through the same pains as novices and were now reaping the rewards of their whites. Boys like Kamal got up early for morning practice and stretches before breakfast.

But Kamal wasn't like other boys. He had a room to himself for starters, up where the Masters lived. He also didn't get up and go to practice with the others. Instead he rolled out of bed and did his own stretches, because he'd be active today too and needed to be able to keep up with Altair. He did his morning exercise and wiped himself down with water from a pitcher and pulled on his grays. They were just like any other novice's grays save for that they had a black band around the sleeve of the over tunic.

He left his room and saw Christopher sitting by the Master's door, his head was drooping. Jari and Ehan had enlisted Christopher to be their third man on watch after Haytham had been given other duties and Diyari had been made Dai. Usually the other man took the late night watch and the odd watch Jari and Ehan couldn't take. The two other men didn't trust too many others outside of the group that had originally rescued Masyaf a year ago with guarding the Masters, but Christopher was one, and was a good friend of Jari's.

"Hello," Kamal called, startling the man awake.

"Ah, Kamal I was just…"

Kamal giggled, "it's okay. All was well?"

"All was well," he agreed with a yawn.

Kamal left him and went down to the kitchens. The cooks were awake, as they were up before the sun rose. There were brothers here as well as people from the village, though the men here were still only nine fingered even though they were just cooks. There was a reason Masyaf had never been taken, because even if you could get inside _anyone_ could kill you, even a cook, or an accountant. Even Kamal, for all that he was just a novice and a scribe at that. Though he'd never killed anyone. Not yet.

The cooks all knew him by name and when they saw him some smiled. He went over to one of the senior cooks, a man named Saleem with a big, brown, bead that was streaked through with white and silver. His hands were burned in some places and he had many scars from his work in the kitchen. "Ah, little Kamal," Saleem was also a very nice man and smiled at him, revealing he was missing three teeth, though he spoke without a lisp. "Breakfast for our Masters is already prepared," he motioned to one of the tables.

"Good," he nodded, "the Mentor also wanted some fruit for breakfast," since usually there wasn't any. Saleem said they'd prepare some and then Kamal was leaving the kitchen and went to the pigeon coops. As he went he saw the other novices in the practice rings outside, doing exercises and their instructors making them run and limber up before letting them go eat. The birds were starting to wake in their coop but they were still sleeping mostly, as the sun was still low in the sky.

The new birds were in their own cage, one you could step into. Only Zaki and Majid could go into the cage, and retrieve the pigeon slips from new birds. They were placed in a box into the cage that was locked and only a few people had a key. Not even the _Masters_ had a key. Kamal did though. He unlocked the box and pulled out the slips, reading them quickly. He took only one with him though, the others would find their way to the Masters' desk after breakfast, but this one needed to be seen by Malik before that.

Next came checking the desk and the locked box there for letters that had arrived early in the morning or late at night. Nothing. He also checked the other few locked boxes around the desk before returning to the kitchen. The tray was set up waiting for him along with a covered bowl for the cats. The tray was heavy, but he could carry it easily, he'd gained quite a bit of muscle in the past year, and that was beyond the muscle his instructors had given him before he'd been made Altair's scribe.

Christopher was still there when he arrived and he knocked. There was no answer but the guard opened the door anyway, no doubt they were still in their room. Kamal kicked the door closed and went to the table in the main room and set the tray down. He prepared food for the cats and rearranged things on the tray so Altair wouldn't have to reach around Malik to get at what he wanted, and Altair always wanted the same things.

Once that was set he returned to his room an grabbed his notebook and a stub of charcoal and returned to the Grandmaster's room. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in the Grand Dai's room. Pretty much never honestly, not since he'd just stopped separating their meals. There was no need since it wasn't like they ever dined apart. Really they were both rarely _ever_ apart, usually when Altair made Malik angry and he'd slink off to sulk or get attention from his cats.

Eventually the men came out of the Grandmaster's bedroom and as always Kamal said nothing, not even seeming to see. He wasn't _stupid_ though. They were together, intimately, even Jari and Ehan knew, though Christopher didn't, as his watch was usually during the times they were asleep or the middle of the day when they were working. It didn't take a genius to figure that out, as they was no other reason the Grand Dai couldn't sleep in his own bed. And for someone like Kamal, who spent more time with them then anyone else it was very obvious, especially that they loved each other, even if they were both stupid, bull headed idiots who didn't actually seem to know the _meaning_ of the word to the point he sometimes just wanted to yell at them.

Kamal quickly poured their tea as Malik called back to Altair to not be so lazy, adding sugar to Altair's because that was how he liked it, and heavy cream to Malik's. The cats milled around his feet a moment before he set their food dishes down. They all had their own dish with a different pattern and they all knew their dish. Sawsan especially would eat out of nothing else by _her_ dish and would swipe at one of her children if they tried to eat her meal.

Malik sat in the chair at the table and took his tea, Altair slithering from the bedroom like an early morning shadow, his head uncovered for now. They ate breakfast, Kamal gave Malik the important slip and Malik dismissed him so they could finish their breakfast and Kamal could go get his own.

He sat with the rest of the novices during breakfast. Most of them didn't like him, because of his status. He was special, important, and no one could command him but the Masters. They were jealous, thinking he had an easier job. Which was stupid since he worked just as hard as they did _and_ had to decipher Master Altair's handwriting, which he was getting better at but still couldn't do it as fast as he wanted to.

But he did have a few friends, mainly with the older boys who were journeymen, but still considered novices for their grays. He hadn't had a lot of friends before becoming Altair's scribe, but now he had a few. After he got beaten by Abdul Wahid, which he didn't like to think about, he'd been afraid to go back to his rooms after he recovered. Also his hands had been broken and he'd needed help doing a lot of stuff. The older boys had been given the task of helping him, and it didn't hurt that one of the junior doctors was nice to him. Kamal had slept in his room with his roommate until Altair had moved him to his own room at the top of the stairs and both boys were his friends, as were some of theirs.

They were older then him though. Rakkim, was nearly twenty, though would be in his position for a while yet even as his friends got to lose their fingers. He was a doctor, and while Masyaf didn't have many of those they were all masters. Rakkim wouldn't lose his gray robe until he was maybe twenty-two, when he could be a full time doctor in the Masyaf infirmary.

Rakkim smiled when Kamal sat next to him, getting into place before Nasir managed it. Nasir was a big boy, all muscle and height and dumb as a bowl of hummus, actually the hummus _might_ be smarter. Nasir was also mean as could be, but he was friends with Rakkim and only gave Kamal a look, though said nothing and ate his breakfast. "Good morning," Rakkim said to Kamal as he put food on his plate.

"Morning," Kamal repeated. The conversation was easy, though Nasir said nothing. Rakkim was easy to get along with, as he was just a nice guy. Everything about him was kind, a rarity sometimes with their brothers. Apparently getting his face so disfigured as it was gave him a different perspective on how to treat people, it was why he was training to be a doctor, he wanted to help others, not kill them. Kamal didn't find him ugly though, like so many others did (though would never tease him because Rakkim was a skilled swordsman as well as a healer, and had many friends). He barely saw the scar on his face anymore, for all the fact that it cut diagonally across it. Usually he got too distracted by his smile, or his eyes, which were _almost_ blue.

It was also why Kamal didn't judge the Masters for seeking each others company. He was in a similar situation, though entirely one sided because Rakkim saw him as his little brother, and he'd never say anything to hurt what they had.

Breakfast ended, the rest of the novices went to their lessons, Kamal went to the Masters' desk. He was unsurprised to see them not only there but already bickering about something or another. From the sound of it it was over if they should take a contract or not. Kamal just sat to the side, out of the way until one of them needed him.

When lunch came around he returned to the kitchen and got their lunch, also having his own. When he came back to the table Sawsan had arrived and was laying on the desk. Altair was no where in sight and Malik was petting her. He didn't like Sawsan. Well, not like he hated her. She just frightened him a little. She did not have cat eyes. She had eyes that understood the world around her, like a human's eyes. Or like the judgmental eyes of god.

After lunch Altair and Malik fought again, over something stupid and childish and Kamal just rolled his eyes at them when they couldn't see. The Grandmaster ended up leaving, and Kamal followed him, because that was his duty. Sawsan followed as well. They ended up going down to the practice area which was mostly empty as it was the hottest part of the day.

"Go get a sword," he ordered Kamal.

Kamal frowned at him unhappily, "Must I?" this was not new.

"_Go_," Altair ordered as he tugged off his black hood and robes.

With a sigh Kamal went and found a practice sword. Altair was in the ring already, stretching, his black over robe folded neatly to the side. Kamal took off his pouch with his ink, pen and notebook in them and climbed into the ring with him.

Altair insisted on this every few days. Kamal would never be a killer, but he couldn't be incompetent either. He needed to be able to defend himself Altair said. So every few days, usually after getting into a disagreement with Malik they'd come down to the practice yard and would train. Altair was a surprisingly competent teacher, and taught through example. He never hurt Kamal though, usually his blade just tapped him, and clearly he never went full speed. He'd seen the Master go at full speed and full tilt: it was one of the most terrifying things he'd ever witnessed.

But this wasn't that. Kamal was not a good swordsman. He wasn't awful, but he wasn't good. His hands were for holding pens and paper, not fighting. But Altair was patient and explained things, helped him get better. It was nice and unstressful, unlike learning to fight had been. If you didn't learn from the instructors you could die as at fifteen years old you stopped fighting with blunt swords if you stayed on the path for an Assassin. Boys died every year in the ring; they weren't good enough. Kamal knew he would have fallen during practice one day. Now he wouldn't, because he didn't have to fight.

Once Kamal couldn't keep going the Grandmaster said they could stop. Kamal put away his sword and gathered his things. Altair hadn't waited for him, so he made his way back to the desk by himself.

The Masters were there, Sawsan was gone, and they were talking. Not arguing, just talking, their heads bowed over something on the desk. Malik pointing at something. He saw the way the Grandmaster, still hoodless, would sometimes glance at the Grand Dai when he spoke, as if making sure he'd said the right thing. Kamal wondered if they were so obvious to anyone but him.

When the Grand Dai noticed him he banished both him and Altair, saying they stunk and needed to wash themselves. Kamal found a servant and told them to get water for the Master's bath before going to find his own.

The fortress housed a large bath house in it's underbelly. Younger novices were tasked with changing the water every day via a pump system. It was a punishment as it took _hours_ and was very tiring and grueling work. Or so he'd been told, Kamal had never had to change the bath's water. There were a few men in the bath even at this hour, though no one his age. He cleaned quickly though, as he could feel the men looking at him with unkind eyes, not pleased a boy was disturbing them, and returned to his room for fresh clothes.

Jari was on door guard now. He told him that the Grand Dai needed him and he quickly retreated back to the desk. Malik had him fetch more birds from the main coops, one for Cyprus, and one for Tyre. Once he'd finished that and gone on another errand to give a stack of papers to someone in accounting, bringing back a box, which Malik directed him to take to their room, it was time for dinner, and Altair was no where to be seen. So it was back to the kitchen and as he passed, with dinner, he saw the desk was empty.

Jari was still at the door and he knocked for Kamal as his hands were full. There was a slight pause and then, 'come in!' and Jari opened the door. Altair was laying about with Kadar and Seif on his chest, Malik sitting near by looking busy. Kamal didn't comment but knew they hadn't been there three seconds ago. Honestly he wondered if they thought he _was_ stupid. He just set their dinner down on the floor and fed the cats.

They needed nothing from him after that so he was free to get his own dinner. He sat across from Rakkim at dinner and the nearly blue-eyed boy told him what he'd done today that was interesting, as Kamal was the only one interested in the sorts of things Rakkim learned about, like plant lore or anatomy and other medical lore.

"You let me talk too much," Rakkim suddenly scolded him, but not meanly, "What about you? What did you do today?"

"Nothing interesting," Kamal said with a slight smile. Rakkim smiled back before Kamal prompted him on someone he'd treated that day and Rakkim launched into an animated story. Kamal listen intently. Today was one of the better days.

* * *

_**READ THIS!**_

This is the last one for right now. I swear to god if one you says "continue" or "more" or anything like that I am going to rip your spine out and beat you with it. Say something constructive other than just consuming.


	11. A Lily in the Valley 7

A Lily in the Valley

His hands still hurt, and when he said that he meant they _really_ hurt. But than getting half the fingers in both hands broken tended to do that, make them hurt he meant. Even though Kamal could mostly move them now it didn't mean they still didn't hurt a lot or weren't stiff. He had trouble holding things most of the time, and especially in the mornings, after not moving them for hours in sleep, they'd hurt and be still and hard to move. It made eating difficult too, but he'd since gotten over the humiliation of having someone cut his food and help feed him when his nurse was Rakkim.

He really… shouldn't do this.

The trouble with it though was that Rakkim was just so nice and smart and energetic. You'd have to be an idiot to not like Rakkim, so Kamal didn't bother to try. That wasn't the problem so much though, cause all the boys in Rakkim's wing loved him, except for a few who thought he was a do gooder and a cripple cause of his big scar. Kamal liked his scar though and sometimes wanted to touch it.

And that was the problem. Cause it wasn't just touching it, Rakkim had let him before, when he'd been high on something and in a daze he'd done so by accident. He wanted to _really_ touch it, learn the subtle contour of the way it bisected his face, actually coming scarily close to taking out his eye, and cut against his mouth just so to make him have a permanent half smile. He wanted to know what Rakkim's mouth felt like when you kissed it.

So that was the problem.

Kamal knew he shouldn't think about his friend like that. Cause they were friends, and Rakkim had taken care of him when his hands were bandaged and done some… disgusting things Kamal never wanted anyone ever have to do again until he was an old old man and wouldn't know what was going on anyway. But that wasn't the way things worked and Kamal didn't just want Rakkim to be his friend. It was stupid though, since it wouldn't happen.

Kamal was lying in bed, he was sharing it with Rakkim and one of his friends named Halal. He always woke up a bit earlier than them, he couldn't help it. He'd trained himself over the weeks helping the Masters to wake up early enough so that he had important papers on their desk before they got there, as well as morning tea. The Grand Dai had said something about Kamal starting to get their breakfast. He'd repressed a sigh at that, but he'd wanted this. He was, effectively, their errand boy. But while he was healing he didn't have work, so now he just laid awake… listening to Rakkim and Halal breathe.

He moved his fingers a bit and scrunched up his face when pain laced up from the tips to the palm and then raced up his arm. They hurt and he hissed. Okay, don't do that again. But he did it anyway, just to _make sure_. Bad idea. He hissed again and looked around when he heard someone rolling in bed. Shit, he hadn't meant to wake one of them up, he was just being an idiot.

There was the sound of feet on the rug covered floor and Kamal turned and looked properly at who he'd woken up by accident. He flushed for several different reasons when he saw it was Rakkim. The other boy didn't sleep in a shirt and the scar on his face wasn't the only one he had. There was another, deep, old, wound on his chest that cut just under his pec and slanted down towards his stomach, ending just above his navel. He said he'd gotten both before coming to the Order from Jerusalem, meaning he'd been a boy. Kamal had no idea how he'd survived such wounds but he was glad he had because not only was he too attractive to be killed so young but the scars made him look older than he was and made Kamal's heart beat quicken.

Rakkim stood over his bed, blinking at him tiredly, "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Kamal said softly, making sure his eyes stayed on Rakkim's face.

"Sure?" and Rakkim crouched down next to the bed. "They hurt?" he continued to ask.

"A bit, it's fine though," Kamal tried to say.

Rakkim just waggled a finger at him, "Master told me to make sure you didn't stress yourself out," and then he stood again and walked to the chest at the end of his bed. Kamal craned his neck to watch, having to twist to keep him in sight and stared fully at Rakkim's back and ass and he was glad Halal wasn't awake. Then Rakkim turned back around and Kamal turned back around and lay on the bed properly. "Here we go," Rakkim said and sat on the side of Kamal's bed and Kamal just kept thinking 'don't stare don't stare don't stare don't stare' because he wanted to. It was unfair that Rakkim was good looking at that Kamal had a crush _on a boy_, he'd rather get a crush on a cute girl nurse. At least that could go somewhere. This couldn't. "Lemmie see," the junior doctor instructed and Kamal surrendered his hands to Rakkim and his amazing numbing salve that helped get rid of his pain.

Rakkim worked the salve into his hands, smearing it on his fingers and the back of his hand and it didn't take too long for it to work and he could move them without pain, though they were still a bit stiff. That just meant he had to wait to get outside where it was warm, breakfast and tea would help a lot. "Thanks," Kamal said meekly, "I didn't mean to wake you up," he added.

"Think nothing of it. This _is _my job after all. Besides it's time to get up now," and then he stood up, put the salve away and pushed Halal off the bed announcing 'Time to get the children up!' at nearly the top of his voice. Kamal laughed, sitting up, and Halal groaned dismally. Rakkim shot Kamal and mischievous smile and Kamal was okay with just being his friend.

Really.


	12. A Lily in the Valley 8

A Lily in the Valley

Surprisingly Kamal didn't actually see Raafe all that often. They'd been in different halls when they'd just been novices and now they were both just _busy_. Kamal was with the Masters basically from sun up, to sun down, and Raafe was busy with his own training with his master Haytham. Raafe had known Jarib better before they'd been given new assignments, but Jarib was in Aleppo now, helping one of the new Dais and no doubt when one of the old men died he'd be maid a Dai himself. That was what he heard the Masters say at least.

But sometimes they did meet up. Usually it was during meal times. Raafe always sat by himself. He didn't have classes with normal novices, not even the desk work ones, he was only for Haytham and other than meals and before bed he didn't hang out with the other novices. Those were the time Raafe showed up for meals at all, usually he just wasn't around and Kamal assumed he was eating with Haytham or in his room.

When he was there though Kamal made a point to sit with him, even if there was a space open next to Rakkim.

Raafe looked up when Kamal sat down. "Hey," Raafe said. Kamal was taller than him now. Raafe had slowed in his growing after taking up training with Haytham. Kamal on the other hand had shot up and hadn't stopped once he hit his growth spurt. He was still trying to get used to his knew height and admittedly was a bit gawky and awkward right now.

"Hey," Kamal said, "How's today?"

"Long," Raafe sighed. Kamal laughed. "I take it just as long for you?"

"Yep. Grandmaster had me running all over the fortress today," he sighed. "I barely had time for lunch today," he said eating his dinner.

"What were you doing?"

"Records for this or that. Did you know we have an archive?" by Raafe's surprised face it was clear the older boy didn't. "Yeah, it's down in the dungeon levels below the novice halls. It's full of old, _old_, stuff. I found a few Greek manuscripts while I was down there."

"Wow. What were you doing there?"

Kamal had shoved food in his mouth and swallowed before saying, "Looking up death records. The clerks," more food, "directed it to me since they only keep records for the past ten years on hand. I needed the last _fifty_."

"God."

"I know right? And what about you? What'd you do today?"

"Secret knife fighting training with Rauf," Raafe grinned smugly.

"No way," Kamal leaned forward eagerly. It was an honor to train with Rauf, _the_ Master Instructor (even though other men had that title too when you spoke of Master Instructors people usually meant Rauf)

"Yep," Raafe smiled, pleased with himself. "Haytham isn't the best knife fighter, so he's having Rauf teach me," he said softly. "Two handed."

"Are you good?" Kamal joined the secrecy, speaking softly in the din of the dining hall.

"I just started a few weeks ago. Rauf says I'm a good student."

"When does _he_ have the time?"

"Between sunset prayer and dinner."

"So you just got done having practice?" and Raafe nodded. "Is he as amazing as everyone says?"

"Yes," Raafe smiled. "He said I reminded him of his brother."

"Rauf has a brother?" that was news to Kamal.

"He… did. The coup."

"Oh," and that was the end of that discussion about Rauf's brother. "But the knife fighting," he continued.

"He's a master at it. I have no idea where he learned."

"And how are you at two handed?"

"We're working on single handed for now. Knife fighting isn't like fighting with swords. I have to get used to the new forms. Once I do he said he'll add the other knife."

"Uhg, I'm so jealous," Kamal whined, "I wish I got to get personally taught by Rauf."

Raafe chuckled, "You and everyone else. Didn't you tell me the Master gives you lessons?"

"Yes," he huffed. "But he's kinda… brash. He doesn't teach so much as show. Like, he barely speaks when we practice."

"But he doesn't hit you right?"

"Of course not," Kamal said firmly.

"Well that's good. Haytham sometimes smacks me," he sighed.

"Why?"

"Poison lore. When I mess up I get smacked."

"Well it could be worse."

"Yep, could be beatings," they both nodded in a agreement. "But I bet the Master is easier on you in the ring than Haytham. I mean you only train every few days."

"True. But I'm also running all over the place and carrying stuff," their food had vanished as they'd talked. "I barely have a moment to myself. Only at night after I pick up the dinner tray."

"And now?"

"Yeah, meals too," Kamal nodded.

"Have you heard from Jarib?"

"The new Dais sent in birds pretty often in the beginning, needing this or that to get settled in their new city. I got to read them all. The last one sent was last winter. Diyari said he was very helpful and was glad to have him. Though he's a bit," he screwed his face up trying to find a nice way to put it since Diyari had not.

"He's a know it all?"

"Yes!" and they laughed. "He's a busy body know it all and the first letter he sent was filled with promises to kill the Grand Dai for giving him such a problematic rafiq."

"He didn't take it seriously did he?"

"Of course not. Diyari is a friend of the Masters. He was there in the coup, that's why he got such a safe job after being hurt."

"Ah," Raafe nodded, "Well, my master got the short end of that draw then apparently," he added.

"Yeah right. Like your master would have let the Masters put him anywhere but the front lines. Everyone got exactly what they wanted. Ehan and Jari have standing, Munahid got status, Diyari got a safe job, and Haytham got his place on the front."

Raafe was nodding, "True. He likes it, being a… you know," he didn't want to say it. "He's good at it. Scary good."

"You'll be good at it too," Kamal said.

"Yeah but he's actually an Assassin. I'm just a book worm who got a chance to try something new. He was on the warrior track, I never was. I wanted to be a lawyer you know."

"Wow."

"You?"

"Accountant, I like numbers," Raafe nodded. "You would have made an awful lawyer," he added and Raafe laughed.

"And you an awful accountant," he was teased right back.

They both looked up from their hushed conversation, leaning back as they'd both been hunched over the table to talk, when someone came up to them. It was Haytham. "Dinner's over boys," he said and indeed most of the dining hall was empty.

"Oh, sorry," Kamal said. "I didn't mean-

Haytham just raised a hand, "It's good for Raafe to talk with boys his own age. But you have lessons," he looked at Raafe.

"I'll be right there," he promised.

"Good," and then Haytham left.

"Your master's intense," Kamal said as they picked up their plates and took them to the drop off station for the kitchen to clean.

"Yeah."

"What lessons do you even have? I thought lessons ended after dinner."

"I train during the day like they all do," he said as they put their plates on the counter with the stacks of other dirty plates. "During the hot hours I have political, religious and history classes with one of Haytham's friends. At night, after dinner, I have herbology and poison lore," he shrugged.

"Ah. Well have fun. I have to go get the Master's dinner tray."

"Bye," Raafe said.

"Bye," and they parted as they left the dining hall, going opposite directions.


	13. A Lily in the Valley 9

A Lily in the Valley

The sword went flying and landed a few feet away in a thump of dust, Raafe was breathing heavy and tilted his head back with Haytham put the point of his sword under Raafe's chin. He said nothing but Haytham knew Raafe knew he wasn't pleased. They'd been at this for a while. Months. Raafe was an awful swordsman though, no two ways around it. Not for lack of trying of course, the boy threw himself into every task Haytham gave him, his skill with a bow had jumped up ten fold since Haytham had taken over his training nine months ago, as had his urban movement and stealth. But his sword play… it was like fighting a child and Raafe was almost seventeen.

"Get it," Haytham said, flicking his sword away. Raafe picked up his sword, he couldn't grip it well though. Haytham frowned, deeply. "We're done today," he said and sheathed his sword.

"What? But I can still-

"Raafe," he cut him off, "we're done," and that was the end of it.

"Yes, master," Raafe lowered his eyes. Raafe hated disappointing him, because he was good at everything else: poison lore, stealth, bow, free running, he was good at all that. This was his one weakness.

"Wash up for dinner I'll see you after," he said. Raafe nodded meekly and sheathed his sword, scuttling off like a dog with his tail down. Haytham sighed after him. He needed to think of something. The Masters had given him this task and he wouldn't let them down. Everyone thought he was useless and weak because his preferred method of killing was through poisons, or night kills, sneaking in at night and slitting throats. Even Abbas did. Malik and Altair were the only ones who didn't. He wouldn't disappoint them with this. This could be a viable offshoot of their Order, a drastic change in tactics to give them the upper hand over the Templars.

It wouldn't happen though if they didn't get past Raafe, because _he_ had to impress the Grand Dai. Haytham had two years to turn Raafe into a mini him, and so far he'd used up nearly eleven months. He only had little over a year now and he didn't know if his little apprentice would be ready. He was good at the book stuff, that he had no trouble with and could memorize lists of information Haytham gave him to study. But when it came to practical applications he fell short a lot. It was frustrating because he knew the teenager could get this.

He wiped his brow of sweat before following after Raafe. He needed an extra brain on this before his fell out of his ears from worrying. Which he shouldn't do anyway. Jari was the worrier, Haytham was efficient, he'd get this done.

He stopped briefly at the dining hall where lunch was being set out and grabbed a bowl and filled it to the brim and grabbed utensils before going up to where the Masters lived. Just like he knew he'd be Ehan was up there, looking tired, grumpy, and hungry. "Guess what I got," Haytham called as he came up the stairs.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Ehan said, not smiling, because Ehan didn't smile, but his voice was amused and his eyes showed he was indeed amused.

"Lunch," and Haytham beckoned him over to the wide sill with the grated window and put the bowl down. Ehan sat opposite him and Haytham gave him a spoon for the rice.

"Aren't you worried of-" Ehan took a large bite of pilaf, "them finding you here," he finished, chewing as he did so.

"Abbas knows you're my friend and that I talk to you. I told him just because I hate the Masters doesn't mean I shouldn't have to hate friends."

"Clever," Ehan said, eating with gusto. "What're you doing here?" and Haytham honestly wondered how Ehan could talk and eat at the same time with such clarity.

"I need some help," and Haytham picked at the food himself and gave the older man a pleading look.

"You? Need help? I've officially heard everything," Ehan said and actually smiled at that. Ehan smiled with his entire face when he did so and Haytham thought it was funny since he looked like a boy doing so and had dimples in both cheeks.

"I'm serious," Haytham huffed.

"With what?"

"Raafe."

"Ah," and Ehan jammed pita into his mouth. "Go on," and he waved at Haytham in an vague manner.

"He's an awful swordsman, I don't know what to do with him," Haytham admitted.

"Like how bad?"

"He's meant for desk work Ehan, how bad do you think?"

"Oh, huh. Sorry," he apologized. "You try him on other weapons?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Axe? Hammer? Pole arms?"

"I don't even know how to use those though," Haytham frowned.

"Well what if it's a reach thing?" and Ehan was still eating and talking yet somehow being totally understandable to the point it wasn't even like he had anything in his mouth and Haytham never saw anything in there anyway. It was like Ehan's mouth was a bottomless pit things fell into. "Try him on a short sword, I know some of our brothers prefer it. The Grandmaster himself I hear prefers it."

"Yeah but the Mentor doesn't actually need a weapon to destroy half an army," and Haytham rolled his eyes, though he wasn't sure Ehan got the joke since Ehan had the sense of humor of a piece of wood.

"Still, short sword may be it. Can he fist fight at least?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe knife fighting?"

"I can't knife fight."

"I can think of a few of our brothers who can," and somehow all the food had vanished down Ehan's throat as he moped up the last bits with a hunk of pita.

"I'll see about the short sword first, cause I can teach that."

"Sounds like a plan," and then he sighed, satisfied, "Delicious," he declared.

Haytham tipped the bowl to see inside, "Well you don't mess around do you?" he teased.

"I like to eat," Ehan said straight faced.

"Mmm, never would have guessed," Haytham said sarcastically. Ehan didn't notice.

"Thanks," he just said.

"Hey, I know how boring it is up here," Haytham said, "anything interesting happen?" and Ehan proceeded to tell Haytham all about Malik sending Altair 'to his room' for something involving one of his 'babies' getting hurt and Haytham just laughed.

—

This was better. The shorter reach and lighter weight was better for Raafe who didn't have the upper arm muscles for a full sized sword like the rest of them. He wasn't that tall either and would probably never get to be much taller. As Raafe drilled against a dummy Haytham thought that this was probably why someone like Rauf, one of the Order's most skilled swordsmen, used short swords. He was a very short man, and didn't seem to have the muscle to wield the longer swords, though apparently he had in his youth if people were to be believed. Haytham couldn't remember such a time, but then Rauf was also nearly ten years older than him, so that made sense.

He still thought about the knife fighting. Raafe was better at close combat, hand to hand, and was able to use his small size to his advantage to put bigger opponents into tight situations or sweep them off their feet without them realizing how it'd happened. Haytham was, admittedly, not the best knife fighter, he was a bowman mainly, and was a skilled swordsman. The only knives he had were his hidden blade and about three throwing knives on his belt. He wasn't good with throwing knives either. But he rarely had to use them so it mattered little to him.

"Raafe," he called because the kid looked like he was about to drop. His hood was down and his face was soaked with sweat. "C'mon, we're done," he said and Raafe looked relieved to sheath his sword up behind his back and drag himself over to Haytham who was sitting in the shade of the fortress wall watching. He slumped down next to his master and Haytham offered him a bottle of water. Raafe drank. "Don't drink too much, you'll get sick," Haytham cautioned and Raafe stopped after chugging it a bit.

"It's very hot," Raafe panted and poured the rest of the bottle onto his head.

Haytham chuckled, "Yes, it is," he agreed. "You're doing better," he added.

"You think?" Raafe asked.

"Yes. It was a good idea to switch you to short sword," Haytham said, thoughtful for a moment, "It makes sense to do so. I don't even normally use a sword even when I go on mission."

"You don't?" Raafe seemed surprised.

"If I have to fight I try to run first, then pick them off with my bow," he said. "If it comes to close combat I can use a sword fine obviously, but you know my preferred method is poison," Raafe nodded.

"Master?" Raafe asked.

"Hmm?"

"Where'd you learn to use poisons?"

Haytham didn't answer right away, it was sort of a touchy subject to him. "I'm from Iraq originally," he said.

"Really? You don't have an accent or anything."

"Yes. My father was killed because of gang violence, and my mother died birthing me. I was an orphan and joined a child gang. I ended up stealing from the city's Dai. He caught me, and after beating me said I could repay him by working for him. So I did. The Dai in that city was a herbalist, a very good one. He taught me about plants and said that if you knew how to mix them right you could kill with them. I did my own research about it when I came to Masyaf. My room was the only one in the entire novice wing that had a plant in it," he chuckled. "I was growing aconite," he smirked.

"Acon- that's monkshood," Raafe said.

"Yes."

"You were growing _aconite_ in your room?"

"Yep. Everyone thought it was pretty. I told the hall monitor, he let me keep it."

Raafe was silent a moment, "He didn't even know what aconite was did he?"

"Nope! And that's why I called it aconite, and not monkshood, or wolfsbane, or any of the other names." Raafe stared at him, mouth open slightly, "Something wrong novice?"

"You're so cool," Raafe said and Haytham laughed.


	14. My Antique Habibi

My Antique Habibi

It was hot. But then it was nearly always hot on the Mediterranean, so that wasn't saying much. It was cooler than Syria, but that still wasn't saying much. Rauf had found some shade near the den, but didn't want to go in. He was still mad at Yusuf. It was stupid, what he was angry about, but he wasn't going to be the one to mend the bridge. Yusuf was an adult too, he could do it on his own.

He tipped the black mask up to wipe his face with part of his sash before tugging it back down again. It was cooler here in the shade and a wind ripped down it from the port. The wind helped a lot but it was still incredibly hot. Rauf was prepared to slouch in this shade all day so help him. Or at least until Yusuf got his head of his ass. He was a man god damnit, not a basket of groceries and didn't appreciate being picked up!

That was the stupid thing he was mad at Yusuf about. Rauf knew it was stupid, but that didn't make it any less demeaning. He was short, he knew that, he didn't need to be reminded that by being picked up by a man nearly a head taller than him. It wasn't his fault he was short. Yusuf still didn't really know why Rauf was upset at him, or why he'd hit him. But you just… _didn't do that_ to someone. Especially not Rauf who was very aware of his height and knew that he was small and okay he had a bit of a complex about it and retaliated against his shortness by being the best fighter most people had seen in their lives.

So now Rauf was out here, and Yusuf was… wherever. He didn't care. He was going to sit here and enjoy the breeze and not worry about that idiot. Instead he just sat back and closed his eyes, refusing to care. It didn't take long till he was asleep.

He woke up to a long shadow being cast on him. He opened his eyes, staring from behind his mask sleepily, but the sun was behind them. Rauf pushed his hand up under his mask to wipe his eyes. "Who's it?" he asked yawning.

"Oh thank goodness," and he straightened when it was Yusuf's voice. He scowled at Yusuf behind his mask. "I was looking everywhere for you."

"You were?"

"Yes, no one's seen you all day. Ezio was starting to get worried."

"Oh. _Ezio _was?"

"I was worried too," Yusuf said, and crouched in front of him. "What is it _habibi_?" he asked

"You know," Rauf said and knew Yusuf could hear his frown.

"What? Earlier?" Rauf's silence was enough. "It was just some fun," Yusuf said.

"I didn't appreciate it," he said. "I don't like being picked up."

"You've let me do it before," Yusuf said, still confused.

"What? When?" he demanded cause he couldn't remember. Yusuf just gave him a look and Rauf was glad for the mask because he flushed crimson. "That is something else entirely and you know it," he said sternly.

"Yes but you still let me."

"Not in front of our brothers I don't," Rauf said hotly.

Yusuf looked at him, "Very well. I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd get so worked up over it. I was just having some fun with you," he said sincerely. "I won't do it again unless… circumstances deem fit otherwise," and he grinned one his annoying, lopsided grins.

"Bastard," Rauf grumbled and Yusuf knew he'd been forgiven because Rauf actually _had_ sworn at him. Rauf did that only under two circumstances; he was stressed out, or he was trying to make himself feel better.

"Good," and then Yusuf leaned closer to him and slipped his mask up. "Stop making that face _habibi _or it'll get stuck like that," and pressed a chaste kiss to Rauf's mouth briefly. "Now c'mon, it's nearly dinner time," and he pulled Rauf to his feet with a grunt.


	15. A Lily in the Valley 10

With the Masters gone there wasn't much to do. Everything important had been locked up tight or put in the vault in the fortress' under belly and Zaki and Abyan took all the important messages now. Ehan, Chris and himself had wanted to go with them during the Threshing but the Grandmaster forbad it. This was not a display of power. If anything Masyaf should be _indebted_ to the towns for giving them their sons. So only he, the Grand Dai, Kamal and Navid as a guard had gone. Of course all the towns had guards who worked under Navid in them so it wasn't like they'd be unprotected, but Jari was still concerned. There wasn't much he could do about it though.

So without the Masters around and nothing to keep safe, save the younger cats but then they weren't that much to watch anyway, they didn't have guard duty. Jari wasn't sure how but it was even _more_ boring not having guard duty. Because now he was in the middle of the fortress during the Threshing, and not up at the Master's door like he was most of the time as he usually took the day shift so he could sleep at night, Ehan usually the morning or evening and Chris was usually stuck with the late shift.

The Threshing was more stressful than he remembered even though he wasn't an instructor or even dealt with the novices. That didn't mean he couldn't be stressed out, or be the only one who was since many of their brothers were equally as worried as he because the Threshing was a big deal.

He was watching the tithe come in from Acre, all young boys, barely six (the minimum for novices) or seven years old and not a muslim or Arab among them- one even had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes- when someone came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're worrying needlessly," Chris said when Jari looked at him.

"I worry enough," Jari informed him.

"Which Ehan and I agree is too much, c'mon," and holding Jari by the back of the neck dragged him away. Christopher was bigger than him and so he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He was like those new Acre boys too, not muslim, or Arab, he was half Jewish, half Christian and practiced neither and looked out of place amid their brothers who were mostly darker skinned and dark haired and dark eyed with his tanned pale skin, light brown hair and hazel eyes. He told them half his family was from France and that's where he got his delicate features.

"I'm fine," Jari insisted.

"Yes yes," Chris didn't even look at him and dragged him up the short stair to the garden and to where two other people were worrying over a hookah. "Found him," he declared and pushed Jari down onto the pillows.

"Where was he?" Haytham asked and took an experimental puff of the hookah.

"Looking at the new Acre boys," Chris said, sitting down.

"Ah, should Diyari be worried than?" and Jari sent him a filthy look. Haytham laughed. They all knew, about him and Diyari. But instead of condemning him like he thought they would, they just teased him about it like they would any of their brothers who was in love with a woman.

"Oh that's not nice Haytham," Ehan told the youngest of them and held his hand out for the hookah hose.

"Hold on it isn't ready yet," Haytham said and Ehan frowned at him. He took a few more puffs until he could blow out a thick cloud of white smoke. "There, greedy boy," and he handed Ehan the hose.

Ehan made no comment and sucked on the hose, letting the smoke trickle out his nose. "Give it to Jari next, he needs to relax," Chris said as Ehan made to hand it to him. Ehan shrugged and handed it to Jari.

"What he needs is to get laid," Haytham said just as Jari was inhaling and he coughed. Smoke went everywhere and it took him a second to breathe properly. They busily laughed at him.

"I hate all of you so much," Jari informed them.

"Dai meeting's in a few months," Chris pointed out.

"I'm going to kill you in your sleep," Jari grumbled and sucked in the hashish smoke irritably.

He handed the hose to Chris as he said, "I gladly take that risk."

Jari stubbornly kept the smoke in his lungs until they started to hurt and then blew out slowly. "You know we're just teasing," Haytham said, reaching across for the hose. "Now, watch this, I've been practicing," he sucked in smoke and then after a second blew out a badly formed smoke ring.

"You lack skill, kid," Ehan said and snatched the hose, took a deep breath and produced the fattest, perfectly round, smoke ring Jari had ever seen. He blew a smaller, thinner, one through it.

"Show off," Haytham grumbled.

"We can't _all_ be the Masters' favorite," Ehan chuckled and Haytham flushed crimson.

"I'm not," he said humbly. Ehan gave the hose to Chris, since he was closer.

"Then please, enlighten us to what you are otherwise," Jari said, laying back more on the pillows now that their harassment of him had passed to Haytham. It wasn't a secret to those in the know that Haytham was favored, for all that he was so young, and that he looked it too. He wasn't the most skilled fighter they'd ever seen, Ehan took that title of being the best fighter of them, his skill set was… different. It made him special and the Masters like that.

Chris passed him the hose, "I dunno. Any of you could be in my position," Haytham complained and tugged on his hooked nose.

"I don't think so," Jari said before sucking in smoke.

"I would have just killed the bastard by now," Ehan agreed. "Better a dead dog than a rabid one."

"Well they've told me not to, so I'm not," Haytham said.

"I don't know why they let him live," Ehan continued. Jari handed the hose to Haytham who didn't take a hit right away.

"It's too dangerous to kill him," Jari said, smoking falling from his mouth and nose as he spoke. "Even I know that and I only hear half conversations," he shrugged.

"Still better than a rabid dog," Ehan grumbled.

"Ehan, the Masters keep you around to look scary, let them do the thinking," Chris teased. And really he was right, Ehan was very tall, just about the tallest Arab Jari had ever met, and was built like a brick house with scars on his arms and torso and nicks on his face from a few close calls. His shaved head and black beard did nothing to help his image, or the jagged scar that ran across his ear, actually having cut off part of it. He was very intimidating to stand up to, and many people didn't.

"Clearly not scary enough," Ehan said giving Chris a look and while they all knew he didn't mean it to sound like a joke it was still funny and all the smoke in Haytham's mouth came out when he laughed. He took another hit to make up for it before passing it to Ehan.

"I wish the Masters had let us come," Chris said suddenly.

"Why?" Haytham asked.

"Nothing to look forward to," he frowned a little.

"But you work the late shift. What do you do all day normally?" Haytham rose a brow.

"He's here," and they all twisted when one of the garden women appeared behind them.

Chris recognized her, "Mira, beautiful," he said, "join us."

She laughed gently, "Perhaps next time," she said sweetly and ran her hand through his brown hair. They all gave Chris a look.

"He's here most of the time?" Jari asked.

"He enjoys the garden," she said and they all _really_ gave him a look. Chris just smiled, totally unapologetic.

"You would," Jari said, like an insult.

"It's here, I don't know why I shouldn't be able to enjoy it," Chris just grinned. "Nineteen years denied it as a boy I think it's fair," and he chuckled.

"You are a lord among men," Ehan said dryly, taking small hits from the hose and blowing out smoke rings.

"Come, Mira, join us," Chris said again.

"I don't know-

"Please?"

She looked at the other three, "I think I'll declined Christopher, another time," and she ran her hand through his hair one last time before leaving them.

"You scared her off," he accused them.

"You are insensitive," Haytham grumbled.

"How so?"

"Jari here looks like he's about to explode-

"Shut up Haytham-

"I'm not really allowed back here, Abbas doesn't approve of the garden, only because he's gone can I even be here. And Ehan," he looked at Ehan but didn't speak, seeming uncomfortable, but Jari wasn't sure why.

"Ehan what?" Chris looked at the big man.

"I'm a eunuch," he said without even a worry, too high to care and Jari made sure to keep his jaw upright. Chris didn't have such fortitude and it hung open until Jari tapped it closed. "Best to not speak of it," he chuckled darkly.

"I see," Chris said, now looking both mortified and abashed for his forwardness of inviting a woman into their group. "Forget I said anything," he added.

"You actually say anything of interest anyway?" Jari asked, taking the hose before Chris could get to it. He could go last this time.

"Rude," Chris said.

"Funny, that seems to describe you quite well," Haytham said.

"_Rude_," Chris said in an even more pointed manner. They laughed, except Ehan who was now sufficiently high enough to not care.


	16. Back for More

Okay there was a bit of a mix up with the last chapter. It was actually a repost. I've since fixed it so LAST CHAPTER IS DIFFERENT THAN IT WAS YESTERDAY GO READ IT.

* * *

Clay whined the entire way. Desmond kept telling him to shut up. Huffing behind the wheel Clay once again whined about the time and gas he was wasting driving Desmond to Big Pine.

"I'm paying you shut up!" Desmond cried.

"Why don't you just have your dad take you," Clay complained.

"My dad's at work."

"Or your mom?"

"My mom wants _nothing_ to do with this. I'm lucky my dad said yes, she was _so_ against it."

"Uhhg," Clay groaned. "I hate Big Pine," he grumbled and bitched some more, Desmond just rolled his eyes at him.

"I'm pretty sure people who _live_ on Big Pine hate it too Clay, so stop whining. At least you aren't a Piner."

"Thank god for small miracles!" Clay cried.

"There goes Shaun's house," Desmond pointed down West Indies as they drove by the Looe Key Tiki Bar. Shaun lived down there off of Jamaica, right on one of the canals. His dad even had a boat.

"Why couldn't Shaun drive you?"

"Cause it's even _more_ out of the way for him. God shut up. We'll go see the alligators or something," he sighed.

Clay was quiet for a second then said, "I've never seen a gator."

"Well they have 'em on Big Pine, so we'll go see and see one?"

"Okay," and he got significantly less bitchy. "Can I ask _why_ on a Sunday?"

"It's the only day this guy has off. He's literally a work-a-holic," Desmond said.

"Okay."

They'd crossed onto Big Pine by now, the speed limit sign as soon as they entered the island declared that daylight speeds were forty-five, night speeds thirty-five. Desmond had Clay turn left onto the light and go onto Key Deer Boulevard.

"God, I've seen some long roads before. Like Indies is pretty long, but at least there are houses on that. There is just _nothing_ here," Clay said, staring.

"Yeah," Desmond agreed. "I walked this when I wanted to come see it the first time."

"How long is it?"

"About two miles," but it felt longer when the speed was thirty. They passed Watson field and a bit later turned into Eden Pines, one of the bigger and only subdivisions in the north end of the key. They passed streets with names like Coconut Palm, Bittersweet, Camellia, Violet, Geranium, to turn onto Orchid to the very last house on the right where a little long haired, short legged dog, ran right out and ran the length of the fence barking it's head off. "This is it, I'll be right back," he said and got out as Clay parked.

He went to the gate as the man who owned the place came out, "Hey!" he called, all smiles, not wearing a shirt and he had a beer gut.

"Hi," Desmond smiled, "I'm here for the bike."

"Sure, sure," the guy, named Carlos, Cuban, stepped down from the house which wasn't much more then a few trailers smashed together, and left the fenced area telling his yappy dog to shut up, and beckoned Desmond to a tarp covered area.

There was the bike. It was a bit old, some parts were rusted, but he could still see the red paint clearly and the Kawasaki emblem was still intact. It wasn't _that_ old, being built in the nineties, but it was still an older model. "Here she is," Carlos said enthusiastically.

"Awesome," Desmond said. "Can I sit on her?"

"Sure," and he did. Desmond had had the local bike mechanic check it out before he bought it and it ran fine and other than a few, mostly cosmetic, sore spots she was drivable today. He sat on the bike and Carlos gave him the key, he leaned down and she rumbled to life. He already had some features in mind he wanted to make to her. She needed new handle bars and the seat was awful and new pipes, as these were dinged, and a new radiator too, not to mention a new paint job and matting all the chrome. He'd been saving up though. He had the money for it.

"She sounds great," Desmond nodded, smiling widely.

"Yep," Carlos nodded. Desmond dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. "Twelve hundred, in cash," he said.

Carlos counted. "Looks good," he nodded. "You know how to ride it?"

"Yep," Desmond nodded and hopped off the bike and went back to Clay's car. "All set," he said and grabbed the helmet and jacket from the back seat he'd brought with him. "Follow me to the gators."

"Ten four," Clay said and Desmond slammed the door closed. He pulled on the leather jacket as he went back to his new motorcycle and Carlos.

"Thanks," he said to Carlos.

"Hey, you're getting it off my hands, the wife'll be happy."

Desmond laughed, "Always good to make the boss happy," he grinned when Carlos chuckled. He pulled on the full helm with the black visor and buckled it under his chin. He waved at Carlos and walked his bike out of the driveway and onto the street. Clay gave him room and after checking to make sure everything was cool he pulled down on the throttle a bit and started down the street. Clay followed after and Desmond took a right back onto Bittersweet.

Not five minutes later they were at the Blue Hole on the little observation deck overlooking the old, water filled, rock quarry. There were soft shelled turtles, fish, and an alligator. He had a big, flat, head and just chilling just off from the observation deck. Clay was reading all the railing plaques about the Blue Hole and the wild life aloud and Desmond was hanging from the top of the railing, staring at the gator who stared back. Good day.


	17. A Lily in the Valley 11

Rauf sat down heavily. It had been a long day and the shade of the fortress felt good. being put in charge of the new novices was more more than he'd ever anticipated and it was exhausted. Today the tithe from Daraa had come in, all looking around sort of frightened, some excited, not knowing what this new world on the mountain would bring them.

He'd also had to deal with a hall monitor today who hadn't wanted to cooperate because the Masters weren't around to make him heel. A few of their brothers had been acting out of line without the Grandmaster or Grand Dai around. Rauf had brought it to Zaki who was acting head and he'd talked to the man. He didn't know what Zaki had said but they behaved after the talking to. Rauf knew Zaki could be fierce and have a razor sharp bite, he'd been friends with Azrael after all and to put up with such a man you either had to have a bite, or be cool enough to temper his fire.

He needed a break. But the Threshing had only just begun.

Rauf looked up when someone came over to him, the words on his lips to send them away but then he saw who it was. "Ah, Bo, hello," Rauf said.

"Hello," the Chinese man said and bowed a little. Rauf liked Bo, it was so polite and kind, his only fault that he was nearly _too_ respectful. He reminded Rauf a great deal of himself though.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm not sure if you can, as you look very tired and I don't wish-

"Bo, just ask," Rauf sighed, he was in no mood tonight for rhetoric.

"Would you like to practice?" Bo asked nervously, his accent slipping through hard and it took Rauf a moment to realize what he was asking.

"Oh," he said, his mouth falling open into a little O. "Certainly," and he pushed off his knees to his feet. "I admit I don't think I'm quite all in the head for learning though," he apologized.

"Oh, well if you're tired I wouldn't-

"I'd be happy to go through some forms with you though," Rauf just spoke right over him because if he didn't Bo would start apologizing for nothing.

"If it's not inconvenient," Bo said sheepishly.

"Think nothing of it. I have something to do before dinner anyway and it wouldn't do good for me to let myself stiffen up for it," he said thinking of his training with Raafe. That was actually fun, since normally knife fighting wasn't taught, and it was secret at that, so they trained in one of the empty store rooms in the upper levels of the fortress. It kept Rauf sharp instead of just fighting against other masters. Not for the first time he reminded himself to ask the Masters if they could start teaching other skills other than simply the sword. Rauf was skilled in all weapons, and he wanted to share his knowledge, not just with swords or knives, but other things as well.

"Okay," Bo said and when he smiled his narrow eyes turned into slits. Bo smiled more than all the rest of Rauf's fellow instructors combined, he liked it. Smiles seemed so rare amid their brothers, at least genuine ones. The novices seemed to do so more, but they were children and didn't know the real horrors of the world yet.

The two left the fortress and walked down to the main ring. Bo left and grabbed two short swords from the smith that worked inside the fortress, the forge sunk into the walls of the fortress and the heat produced using to heat water for the common baths in the lower level. Rauf climbed into the front ring and did some stretching, nothing too serious though. He was usually pretty loose most of the time and he'd been fairly active today, even without teaching, he didn't need to stretch that much.

Bo returned with two training short swords, the edged round and blunt. "Ready?" Bo asked.

"Mmm," Rauf said and drew his own two swords from where they crossed behind his back. "I trust you can follow me?" he asked. Bo nodded eagerly and Rauf slid into the most basic form of the two sword fighting style. Bo copied him and Rauf tapped his arm up into the right position, like he did with his novices, and then slowly slid into the next form, Bo following.

They drew a crowd, as they always did. Fighting with two swords was basically unheard of, only Rauf fought with two blades, only when pressed usually, but no one else but him even knew how to fight with two of them. Not even Altair. Since he actually fought with both swords so rarely to see him use them at all was a treat and even just watching him work the forms with Bo gave men an insight on how he did it and he'd seen more than one man try to mimic the forms but gave up quickly as it took an obscene amount of hand eye coordination to fight with both hands and most men didn't have that. He didn't think Bo had it, but he could go through the forms like a dance and it was a good exercise regardless.

When Rauf started to move through the more complex forms he had to stop often and reposition Bo's arms or feet or his entire stance. Bo just grinned at him when he did, apologetic but also determined to do it properly, and then they'd go through the form again, slowly, until he got it.

Without Altair around they practiced all the way Maghreb when the imam came calling them. Their brothers clapped, and Rauf sheathed his swords, clapping Bo on the back. Bo grinned and as their brothers dispersed went and put his practice swords away. Rauf went to go find some water and a rag for his face before having to go teach Raafe.


	18. A Lily in the Valley 12

A Lily in the Valley

Winter was coming, Altair knew that. He liked winter. At least the winter before it started to snow, he could do with less snow. In small amounts it was okay, but it never snowed in small amounts in Masyaf.

This wasn't Masyaf though, this wasn't even Jerusalem where he was headed, this was the Kingdom between and Altair was bored. The ride from Masyaf and and Jerusalem was long and lonely. Altair tried not to let it get to him. Night was coming now though, he needed to stop for the night. A boring night after a boring day before _another_ boring day. How wonderful his life was.

At least he wasn't dead.

That was barely a consolation prize.

He stopped his horse before it got too dark and set up a little camp a ways off the road. He watered his horse, tied it to a bush and then set about looking for some kindling and fire wood. Once he had a pile of both he took a knife and himself out into the shrub to find something to eat. Sure he had rations, but he was getting tired of the same old food every day. He wanted to get himself some fresh meat, anything really.

It didn't take him long to find something and he sank low behind a bush, the tip of a throwing knife caught between two fingers. There was a hare just in front of him, nibbling at some dried grass. He steadied his breath, knowing he'd get one shot at it, then from where he was he hurled the knife. He grinned in satisfaction when the rabbit cried out and he moved forward to end it's life.

A streak of brown and gold raced from a bush before Altair could get to his rabbit one of the wild cats sprang upon it, clamped its jaws around the rabbit's throat and stopped it's struggles. It then tried to leave with Altair's catch!

"Hey!" he cried and made himself look big, to scare the cat off. The cat let go of the rabbit and hissed at him, arching its back and looking fully pissed. "Get away," he pulled out his short sword and used it to try and move the cat off his kill. It wasn't going down without a fight though. Well tough shit it was Altair's meal not this cat's. He used his foot to push it away, though _not_ kicking it, and grabbed the hare by the ears. The cat hissed at him, furious. "Oh shut up, here, you can have some," and he broke one of the hare's legs and used his sword to cut it off. He left the leg on the ground and returned back to camp.

Altair skinned and gutted the hare and started his fire. He put the skinned rabbit over the flame and wrapped the insides in the skin to dump before he went to sleep. As he waited for the hare to cook he heard a noise. Altair ejected his hidden blade and waited, looking away from the fire to get his proper dark vision. He heard a low growl from the bushes. He tensed. Please don't let it be a lion or a cheetah, he thought. Then, to his surprise, the cat from earlier slid out from the bushes. He growled at Altair and clearly wanted the rabbit skin full of guts and blood which was a few feet away from the fire, but was too scared to come near.

Altair picked up the rabbit skin and opened it. He tossed a piece of meat to the cat, it grabbed it and darted back into the bushes. Altair smiled to himself and went back to waiting for his rabbit. The cat came back a dozen times before his rabbit was done and each time Altair threw it a portion of what was in the rabbit skin. He left the skin an the rest of the portions outside of his camp when he was getting ready for bed.

The next morning the cat was there, near, sitting, watching him sleep, clearly waiting. "What?" he asked the cat. They had amazing golden eyes and Altair felt their heat even as the sun rose. "I have nothing for you," he told the cat, which was a golden thing with brown stripes. it was probably a feral house cat. Or maybe the offspring of a wild and house cat. It didn't seem afraid of him at least. If anything it was like it demanded he pay attention to them. Altair ignored the cat and did his morning exercises and had his morning tea, the cat moved around him, too far to touch, but near all the same. "Whaaaat?" he asked it when he stood between him and his horse. "You want more food? Want me to feed you, you dumb thing?" he asked it.

They blinked their golden eyes at him. Yes, they said. Feed me.

Altair groaned, "You're unreasonable," he sighed, giving it a look. The cat's tail just curled in amusement. Altair knew he should just step over the cat and leave but... Aaban. He looked down at the golden-eyed cat with a sigh. "Okay," he said, and pulled out his knife to find it something else to eat.

Altair spent three days in that spot, he didn't even care if he was late. By the end of the first day the cat let Altair touch them. They didn't purr for him but he didn't mind that. By the end of the second day they ate food right out of his hand without complaint. Altair liked the cat. On the third day Altair woke up and the cat wasn't there. That confused him the most honestly. He waited, did his exercises, and had his morning tea. The cat didn't come. Altair knew he should just leave, but he couldn't.

He left his camp and looked for signs of the cat. Altair was an expert tracker and it didn't take him long to find the trail. He followed it to some rocks and a small cave, too small for him, but he could look inside. He crouched down and peered inside. He swallowed and pulled back. He'd found out what had happened to the cat. Something bigger and hungrier had found it, hunted it, tracked it back here and gotten into it's nest. Altair felt sick to his stomach. Human death he could deal with. His job human death. But a cat? All he could see was Al Mualim holding Aaban around the throat and digging a knife into his stomach, spilling his guts all over the floor. Thinking about it too much made Altair honestly feel light headed.

The golden striped cat was dead, the body gone, all that was left of it was blood and some guts. There was nothing Altair could do. He needed to move on and get to Jerusalem.

Altair stood and dusted himself off. Time to go. He'd taken perhaps three steps when he heard a mew, a soft mew. He stopped, turned and listened. More newing. Altair took the three steps back to the little cave. The mewing was louder now. He crouched down and even got on his hands and knees to look inside the cave. He saw the gore yes and he ignored it. Then, he saw movement. He licked his lips and moved his head to allow more of the early sunlight to enter the cave. There, amid the remains of its mother, was a kitten. It looked only a few weeks old and was terribly scrawly. A jolt went through Altair. There was too much blood here for just one cat. There had been a litter in this little cave. This kitten had somehow avoided the blood bath, maybe by being too small and skinny to be noticed.

Without thinking Altair reached into the cave and blindly groped around in it. Then his hand closed around the kitten gently and he pulled it out of the cave. The kitten was covered in blood and mewing loudly as Altair held it, clearly complaining. Altair rocked back onto his thighs. "Oh dear," he said and looked at the kitten in his hand, barely bigger than his palm. What was he going to do now?


	19. Tales From Seal Beach 3

Sometimes bad thing happened to good people. It was the way the world worked. Sometimes the good guy lost and the villain won and the world didn't give a _shit_

about the fact that you were a good person. It didn't care if you didn't have a social life to take care of your baby brother or if you made good grades or were on the varsity baseball team or if you spent every waking moment trying to be the best person you could possibly be. The world didn't give a shit, because life was pain and suffering.

But sometimes.

Sometimes good things happened to good people too.

Altair was still riding the adrenaline high from court. He could still remember Harvey saying, 'just tell the truth, don't sugar coat, and don't bull shit. If it's bad, say it's bad. You won't be helping yourself by making excuses for your parents.' So Altair had done just that and had laid it out plainly for the judge about what home life was like for Desmond and himself. It had only taken two hours.

Two hours.

Altair had thought it'd take more time.

Two hours had all it had taken to make sure Desmond would never be taken away from him.

They were celebrating with a cookout at their spot on Seal Beach. Literally everyone any of them knew and knew about Altair's custody battle with his adopted parents had been invited. It was about half a million people and Altair had never been congratulated more in his entire life than that afternoon on the beach. Altair just sort of felt numb about the entire thing. A good numb though. He felt like he was floating.

Desmond was playing in the surf with his little gaggle of friends, splashing, laughing. He'd get to see this all the time now. His brother happy, with friends, and not have to worry about uprooting his brother to some other town in some other country and try to explain to him as he got older why mommy and daddy were never home and say the same lies to Desmond he told himself. That William and Kaley loved them, that they would be home soon, that they were fine alone. Maybe William and Kaley did love them, Kaley's tears at court had seemed pretty real, but not the way a mother and father _should_ love them, not the way he and Desmond _deserved_ to be loved.

Altair was sitting a bit off to the side in the sand, surrounded and mostly hidden by surf boards. Being the center of attention was exhausting and Altair wasn't cut out for it. So once he felt like his hand was going to fall off from being shaken so much he'd retreated. It wasn't quiet here, as there was a boom box of some kind blasting music to be heard over the cacophony of loud voices. It was out of the way though and that was good enough and Altair didn't have to be at the center of this madness.

He smiled as from the shallows one of the kids screamed as they were attacked by the rest of them and then they were all barreling out of the ocean, screaming yelling and shoving. He heard Ms. Hastings yell at them to calm down and then they were making a sand castle.

"Hey," and the next moment Malik was sitting beside him.

"Hey," Altair said.

"How you feel?"

"High," Altair felt himself smile a bit. Malik laughed.

"So, good then?"

"Yeah," Altair was still watching his brother. A tight ball that had taken up residence in his chest for the past few weeks since Altair declared his Independence and his right of guardianship over Desmond had dissipated with the last word of the judge. It felt like he could breathe properly again.

"I'm glad," Malik leaned over and put his head on Altair's shoulder and took Altair's hand. "I'm glad you're staying," he added, squeezing Altair's hand.

"Me too," Altair leaned back against Malik in turn.

"What next?" Malik asked.

"Moving," Altair said, "and confirm my enrollment at the Art Institute," Altair felt himself smiling.

"I love when you do that," Malik said.

"Do what?" Altair asked looking at him confusedly.

"Smile," Malik pressed his lips to Altair's lips, "Do it more often."

Altair flushed a bit, "Okay," he said in a little voice.

Malik beamed at him and kissed him again. "Good," he said, cupping the side of Altair's face. Altair had to disagree. It wasn't good. It was great and it would only get better.


	20. The Grass is Greener

Altair watched himself in the mirror as he went through the basic positions of ballet. He still felt kinda weird doing this even though he'd been taking ballet a few years now, kept up with it even though Ed was gone. He swallowed at the thought, he'd been stupid to think that could ever last. Thinking about it made him lose track of where his feet were and he tripped and nearly fell. He grabbed the bar attached to the mirror before he brained himself on it and pushed himself back up to standing.

He looked at himself in the mirror with a frown. What the hell was he doing? He should be home watching his brothers. Ezio was barely old enough to watch the twins. He should be doing something more productive with his time than coming here to practice ballet of all damn things. He scowled at his reflection and went to change clothes. He had better things to do than be here, wasting his time.

When he got home Ezio and the twins were watching TV, their mom was still at work and predictably Bill was nowhere in sight. Altair never saw him work but he still always had money. He just sort of assumed Bill sold drugs.

"Altair!" Ezio said when Altair came home, it was hot out today and all the fans were on, blowing as hard as they could to keep the room as cool as possible.

"Hey, I miss anything fun?"

"Not a thing," Ezio made a face.

With a huff Altair sat down on the couch before finding himself with a lap full of twins. At nearly three years old they were both pretty well behaved. Sure sometimes they had their moments, but they were good kids. Connor was sucking on his thumb and Haytham just wanted to be in his lap because Connor was. Altair sighed and leaned back into the couch watching one of the shows on Discovery that had nothing to actually do with nature or discovering anything.

The house phone started to ring about half an hour later and Altair had to push the twins off him to go get it. "Hello?" he asked.

"Altair," Malik said though the other end.

"Oh, hey," Altair took the cordless phone into his room.

"Me, Adha and Rauf are gonna go into Boston on Thursday after school, wanna come?"

"Ah- I can't," Altair said.

"Why not? Cause of your brothers?"

"No," Thursday was the day he had dance class and his instructor always had him stay after. Teodora had a strange interest in him and offered to teach him extra if he wanted, after his Thursday class.

"Why not then? We were gonna catch a movie."

"I can't," because his mom was paying for his classes and while he sometimes felt weird being the only guy in his class he wouldn't make her pay for something and not do it.

"Why not?"

"I just can't okay," Altair said, annoyed.

"But why?" Malik pressed, "You can send your brothers to a friend's or something. C'mon, it'll be fun."

"I can't," Altair said again.

Malik was quiet for a moment, "Why?"

"What does it matter?"

"Cause you don't wanna hang out with us, which you never say. You're always stoked to go into Boston, what the hell is your deal?"

"I have something else going on on Thursday," Altair said.

"Well?"

Altair bit his lower lip. He hadn't told his friends he had ballet classes. Most people didn't know. His brothers didn't even know. Robert knew and he mocked Altair for it all the time, calling him gay or a faggot. He didn't want to deal with that. But this was Malik, he'd understand. Right? "I have ballet classes on Thursday," he said.

There was silence on the other end and then Malik laughed, Altair felt his heart sink, "Yeah, okay Altair," he chuckled, "now what's the real reason you can't come with us to Boston?"

Altair swallowed, "I told you. I have ballet class on Thursdays."

"No shit?" Malik asked.

"Yeah."

"Huh… well that's weird," and Altair felt miserable, he didn't know what was worse, Malik laughing at him, Robert's insults, or Malik's dismissal. "Well you open on Friday?"

"Yeah," Altair said and had his knees up to his chest now.

"We'll go on Friday then. Adha just needs to be back before dark, you know how insane her dad gets."

"Yeah," Altair said softly.

"I'll tell the others, see you on Friday," and he hung up. Altair sighed, turned the phone off and lay back in bed.

—

On Friday he met his friends at the theater on Boylston. Adha was the easiest to see in her goldenrod hijab, a long sleeved sun dress and sky blue tights, standing between Rauf and Malik who both looked like hooligans in jeans and band shirts. Rauf sagged his pants a bit even though Adha was constantly on him to pull them up. "There you are," Adha said when she saw him.

"Sorry, the red was running late," Altair said. "So what are we seeing?"

"Iron Man two," Rauff said.

"Nice," Altair said, "I haven't seen it yet."

"Us either," Rauf said, "I just want explosions."

"I want RDJ," Adha said dreamily as they walked into the theater.

"He's old enough to be your dad," Malik made a face.

"So?" she asked, "He's still attractive."

"Agreed," Altair said and they all looked at him, "What? She's right. Robert Downey Jr is hot."

"That's so gay man," Rauf said with a bit of a head shake. Altair frowned after his friend as he went to get in line for his ticket.

"Oh, Adha," and he grabbed Adha's arm, "can I have that thing?" he pointed into her giant purse.

"Oh, right," she smiled and looked at Altair, "Malik got you a gift," and she pulled a sloppily wrapped bundle that looked more like Malik had no idea how to wrap presents than anything intentional.

"You did?" Altair looked at Malik confused but took it. With a slight frown he broke the tape. Altair felt his heart start to pound and anger flow through his veins. Malik had bought him a cotton candy pink tutu.

Malik laughed but Adha didn't seem to get what the joke was. Clearly Malik hadn't told Adha or Rauf that Altair did ballet. Clearly so he could mock Altair for it. "You like it?" Malik asked him, smiling. Asshole thought he was being funny!

"Fuck you!" Altair yelled at him and threw the packaged tutu in his face and stormed off, seething.

"What happened?' he heard Adha ask.

"I thought it was funny," Malik clearly didn't think it was funny now, but Altair didn't care. He was out of earshot now and stomped out of the theater to the street and headed for the Boyston stop. Fuckthis he was going home! At least back home his brothers didn't play mean jokes on him.

He'd made it to the little building where Boylston was when someone grabbed his arm. He turned, it was Adha, Rauf and Malik were with her. Malik had a new red mark on his face like Adha had slapped him and looked like he'd been yelled at. "Wait," she said.

"Let go," he said, "I'm going home."

"I'm sorry," Malik said.

"Don't care. Let go," and he tugged out of Adha's grip.

"Altair," Adha said, "don't let this ruin your day-

"I have to deal with my mom's boyfriends calling me a faggot to my damn face because I like to dance. I'm not going to deal with one of my best friends laughing in my fucking face for it too," and he turned back to Boylston. "I'm going home. Call me when Malik isn't such an asshole," and he stomped down the stairs.

He was surprised a second time when Adha came after him and caught him before he could go through the turnstyle. "Altair, please," she said.

"Adha-

"You know Malik didn't mean anything cruel by it," she said.

"Yeah well he's still an asshole for it," Altair growled.

"I know. He knows too. Come back to the theater. Please?"

"No."

"He's your friend Altair. And he is sorry," Altair looked down at his shoes. "He didn't realize it would hurt your feelings."

"It did," Altair said softly.

"I know. I already yelled at him some. But he is your friend," she took his hand gently, "We were all looking forward to going to the movies together," she said.

Altair looked at her, "Okay," he said quietly.

She smiled brightly at him, "Good. Don't let what Malik did get to you. I'm sure you're great."

"I'm okay," Altair said as she led him back up the stairs.

"You'll have to show us some time," Adha squeezed his hand as they got topside. Malik and Rauf were standing in the shade of some trees.

"We cool?" Malik asked as they went over to them.

Altair looked him over a second, "You can make it up to me by buying me snacks at the movies," and Malik groaned, Rauf laughed.

"C'mon, lets go. The movie is going to start soon," and she grabbed Malik's hand too to drag them both towards the theater. Rauf followed behind.


	21. Pro Human

The blond kid opened the door when Ezio knocked on the front door, "He in?" Ezio asked him.

"Yeah, he's busy though," they said.

"You going to keep me out?" Ezio didn't even need to try to be intimidating, he_was_ intimidating. It was hard to grow up in the fortress and not grow up to be intimidating, even their women were. This kid didn't find him intimidating though, never had, it irked the shit out of Ezio. Most people in society rolled over to show their bellies when an Assassin showed up, but this kid didn't. He was weird in all the ways Ezio didn't like but Leo had claimed him as his dependant so there was nothing Ezio could do.

"No," they said and stepped out of the way. Ezio walked into the house, one of the hundreds in the skyscraper out in the suburbs of Vancouver. Ezio still remembered when he thought the kid was Leo's son, but no, Leo had never joined with anyone, he thought the entire Child Bank system was barbaric. Which of course just made the kid's existence strange at first, Ezio still didn't know where he came from, Leo said if he wanted to know he could ask but the kid wasn't telling.

The house was well furnished and as soon as Ezio walked in he cased the place, even though he didn't have to. Force of habit more than anything honestly. Ten years of training didn't just go away because you suddenly lived in society for a few. As it was Ezio was stretching his time, he needed to go back soon before he was written off as gone into society. He was nearly twenty five; he was pushing it. Ezio walked into the back where there were the bedrooms and Leo's workshop. He knocked.

"Leo," he called.

"I'm busy I'm busy!" Leo called back. Ezio frowned and looked back down the hall, the kid was looking out the door, down the outside hallway. Damn. He thought he had more time than this.

"This is important," Ezio called and he honestly wasn't above opening the door or busting it down to get at the inventor.

A moment later the door opened a crack and he saw Leo's blue eye that had a dark circle under it and a wisp of his blond hair which looked like he hadn't washed it in a few days. Damn it all when was the last time he'd slept? "What?" Leo asked, sounding annoyed, almost cranky, like a kid who needed to be put down for a nap. In the living room the door closed and Ezio heard the kid lock all the locks.

"We need to go," Ezio said.

"What?" Leo said again.

"Bad guys are coming," the kid said, standing at the end of the hall, looking at them.

"What?" Leo stuck his head out to look at the kid.

"I saw them going into houses down the hall," he said.

"Damn," Ezio muttered and pulled out a disk. All Assassins, before their pilgrimage, were given two beacons. A dead man's beacon that was implanted close to their heart so if they died their bodies could be retrieved, and the disk, which was only supposed to be activated in an emergency. The disk was taken back when you came home and you were issued your official tags once you had your place in the fortress. Ezio cracked the disk in half, which activated the beacon in his body, since the disk tricked the chip into thinking he was dead when he wasn't.

"It's just the police, nothing to worry about," Leo said dismissively.

"No they weren't," the kid said.

"We need to go," Ezio said again and Leo yelped when he grabbed Leo's arm and yanked him out of the workshop.

"What?! No, I'm working," Leo batted at him.

"Leo," Ezio gave him a rough shake, "they find you in here with the shit you're working on and they'll put a bullet through your head," because only Abstergo used guns like the fucking pansies they were. Leo's eyes widened at that. He had the same feeling as most of society about guns. Mentioning them brought up instant thoughts of the Collapse and how they'd nearly wiped themselves off the face of the earth. "Now, we need to go."

"What do they want?" Leo asked, staring at Ezio.

"I don't know," Ezio said and let Leo go. "Get some things together, we're leaving," and he went back to the door and looked through the viewing port. He looked when the kid came up next to him, "Go back a bag," he said, jerking his head towards his room.

They shook their head, "It'd just slow us down," he said.

"Smart," Ezio said.

"I know what they want," he said.

"Yeah?" Ezio said, "And what's that?"

They looked at Ezio seriously and Ezio nearly fell on his ass when his eyes turned EV gold, "Me," he said and there was a loud banging on the door. Ezio drew his knife; not on his fucking watch.


End file.
